Legacy and Normalcy
by vlwp
Summary: Post DH. "In so many ways, we are a broken vase. We can be made whole again, but you'll always see the crack, our scar. It is the greatest hope of our world to slowly heal the fracture."
1. Baths and Mourning

**Summary**: Post DH. In the year after the final battle, Ron, Hermione, and Harry seek to move out from under the shadow of Voldemort's intense, dark reign and start their long journey toward normal. Rating is for violence, adult themes, and language. This is my first fan fiction so reviews would be hugely appreciated! Thanks for reading.

_. . . Chapter 1_

_. . . Baths and Mourning . . ._

* * *

The darkness pressed in around them in the sixth year boy's dormitory. She felt and heard their breathing before she opened her eyes: she, Ron, and Harry were all in one small bed. Dirty and on top of the covers, she peaked at the arm thrown across her side in the moonlight. Pale white, freckles, a dreadful scar from splinching: Ron. Harry was sleeping on his back in front of her. Breathing easily for probably the first time in years with no nightmares. He had his glasses on and his wand clenched tightly in his hand across his chest.

Hermione sat up, moving Ron's arm gently, and leaned over Harry to take his glasses off and put them on his side table. She noticed someone had set three glasses of water and a plate of crackers beside the bed and realized someone had taken care of them, like Dobby . . . She tried to change the subject in her own mind. Kreacher? They'd have to thank him or whoever.

All the beds in the room were full in the low light. Neville and Seamus shared one. Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood in another. Molly Weasley in one. Arthur and Percy Weasley slept on the floor. She couldn't see who filled out the other beds. Like everyone had crowded around, glad to be with other friends. Other survivors. She was between Harry and Ron so she started to edge down towards the foot of the bed to keep from disturbing either of them. As she slid off of the red duvet and onto the wooden floor, she almost stepped on Charlie Weasley's left leg. There was a huge tear in his leather vest - must have happened in the battle. Absently, she wondered when they had come in, it had just been the three of them when they had gone up the stairs this afternoon.

Hermione tiptoed across the floor, lit wand and beaded bag in hand, and out onto the stone stairs. She headed across to the girls' bathroom. She'd been wearing the same clothes since they left Shell Cottage - had that really only been two days ago? - and desperately needed to clean up and change clothes. She undressed slowly, noting the blood down her side. Not hers. She threw the stained shirt to the side and watched it slide underneath the sink. In the bath, Hermione sank down into the warm water and shut her eyes.

_"We're here, we're at Shell Cottage you're safe."_

Her eyes snapped open. She was safe now as she had been when Fleur had helped her bathe except this time. . .this time they'd stay safe. Hermione wondered how many were still out there. Death Eaters. How many would stay in England, would flee, would be captured? How many were dead after last night?

She slowly began to wash all of the grime, blood, and sweat off as she tried not to think about how many good lives were lost or who she'd never see: Tonks and Lupin and Fred and so many others. When she came to her arm, m u d b l o o d, still red and angry, Hermione tried one more time to wash it away. Scrubbing until it hurt her arm, she lifted the washcloth. m u d b l o o d. On a field of raw pink skin.

Now what was left for the three of them?

She'd have to tell them about her parents, she thought as she washed her unruly mass of hair. She would have to visit her ruined home. They would sit together as they buried an inconceivable number of their friends. How strange that just yesterday she and Ron had agreed they were ready to die and now she was here in a bath, very much alive, when so many weren't.

Drying off, a knock sounded on the door, "Hermione?". Parvati's voice. Hermione wrapped the fluffy, red towel, embroidered with golden 'G' around herself and went to the mirror to check her reflection. She sighed.

"Come in."

Parvati walked in wearing a nightgown - her purple one she'd had since fourth year, Hermione noticed - and stood beside Hermione as Hermione combed her hair in the lamp lighting. After standing in a heavy silence for a minute or more, Parvati took the comb out of Hermione's hand and started to help Hermione with her hair.

"Padma is in St. Mungo's. Rookwood, he...he escaped but - she'll probably be ok. That's what they tell me at least, she's still trying to sleep off Skele-Gro. I'm to go back this afternoon," Parvati said with red eyes but no tears fell.

"Parvati - I'm so sorry. She'll be fine, I'm sure of it," Hermione said, placating. Her words were failing her and she knew it sounded superficial. Everything sounded shallow, hollow, after what they'd all been through.

"Yeah," Parvati said as she gathered more of Hermione's wet hair into her hand, working through it gradually. Hermione wondered for the first time why the twins were sorted into different houses. Were they really that different? Padma always seemed so similar to Parvati - maybe it was just that they looked so alike that Hermione thought they were similar.

"It's nice to have you back Hermione. This year was, it was just..."

"Horrible?" Hermione finished. She looked up into Parvati's eyes through the mirror - she had gotten taller in the last year, almost Harry's height.

"The Carrows," she said but didn't elaborate. "Eventually Neville, Ginny and a few others started having to pretty much live in the Room of Requirement just to stay alive out of the Carrows' grasp," Parvati explained.

Hermione stood still and stared at her reflection as Parvati combed her hair. Hermione's eyes were a bit sunken from lack of sleep and food. Her cheekbones were pronounced like they had never been before. Maybe it was just because her hair was wet but even her hair looked thinner. No complains there. The scar on her neck was still there, smaller, but there. She had another cut under her right eye that marred the skin of her cheek. That must have happened last night. She'd need dittany.

Parvati finished and laid the comb down on the edge of the sink and smiled sadly at Hermione's reflection. She was thinner too, Hermione decided.

"There. I'm sure there will be breakfast if you want to walk down, I'll be in the Great Hall...or, wherever if it's not there."

"Thanks, Parvati." Hermione hoped that Parvati could hear the gratefulness in her voice. It was nice to feel taken care of and clean and to have a night's sleep that wasn't under canvas.

As she heard the door to the bathroom shut with a clink that echoed around on the marble floor, Hermione reached into the beaded bag and pulled out some clothes. She smirked as one of Ron's shirts came out in her hand. All of their clothes had been thrown in and disorganized in the last month or two. She eyed Ron's blue t-shirt - she'd be wearing a dress if she pulled on his shirt. She found a pair of her jeans and a grey long-sleeve shirt.

She pulled out the rest of an outfit for Ron and something to wear for Harry and headed to the boy's dormitory to lay their clothes out before she headed out to survey the rest of the castle. She laid out clothes for Harry and Ron on Harry's night stand beside the two of them and headed to the common room. How had she not noticed it before? How beautiful and homey and perfect the common room was. Red heads stuck up above the high back of the couch. Hermione circled it slowly, absently running her hand over the pocket of her jeans to double check her wand's presence.

"Oh, Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "Dear, I'm so glad you're alright! We woke up and you were gone - were you out of the tower?"

Hermione relished her motherly hug. "No, just cleaning up," she said as she motioned to her hair. She left it wet instead of using a charm. They'd been using charms to hurry through everything all year, taking to sleeping clothed in that tent, forgone showers whenever possible. Rushed.

Mr. Weasley and Ginny sat near on the couch, they both looked up at her as she entered. George in a chair, facing the empty fireplace, a blank look burning in his brown eyes.

What do you say? Where do you start? After Mrs. Weasley released her and took her seat again on the burgundy sofa, Hermione sat down beside Ginny's legs on the floor and joined George in his stare down of the fireplace. As Mrs. Weasley cried quietly, Ginny pushed her legs against Hermione's side and Hermione wrapped an arm behind her calves. It was the best hug she could muster. How do you comfort a family who has lost a child? How many parents would be grieving after the Daily Prophet came out this morning? What would she, Ron, and Harry being doing now? How upset would they be that she had hidden the truth about her parents? Would they come back to Hogwarts or would they . . .could you even finish Hogwarts without actually finishing Hogwarts? Would she want to?

The sun had risen and blasted a beam of light at the wall to their right during the time that Hermione and the Weasleys sat still. Finally, interrupting Hermione's stream of thoughts and turmoil, Ron's gentle voice shattered the oppressive silence, "'Mione?"

"I'm here," Hermione said as she unfurled her arm from Ginny's legs and stood, shaky on her legs after sitting so long, on the spot.

"Hermione," Ron breathed as he stepped forward and embraced her. Sudden relief flooded Hermione. She and Ron and Harry: they'd survived . . .somehow. She'd known, _known_ at the beginning of the year that this wasn't possible but now here they were in Gryffindor tower.

"Ron! Thank Merlin, you're ok! Oh, we've been so worried all year!" Mrs. Weasley's voice was shrill after the long gap between talking. She moved forward to Ron and Hermione stepped back. Ron was greeted with his mother's hug and his dad stood to gather his wife and son together in his arms. She felt happy and jealous at the same time when Ginny reached out and took Ron's hand and even George looked up at Ron. He had so much family. Hermione had not even a single cousin to call up and cry with.

After what she was sure Ron considered a long enough hug, she looked up at met his eyes. The look behind them was fierce, tired, relieved, sad, loving, scared, happy, scary. Hermione's gaze held him steady, how long ago had she said that about a teaspoon of emotional range? Hermione held his stare breathlessly. They'd all changed so much. Ron cleared his throat and gently backed out of his family's hold. Hermione took a step closer.

"Thanks for the clothes, 'Mione," he whispered to her.

"Sure," Hermione said, withholding a small smile at the nickname. The only people in the world who she'd let use a nickname were Ron and Harry. Even then, she liked it better coming from Ron.

"Want to go see if Harry wants any food? It's about eight o'clock. Hasn't eaten in almost a day and he probably doesn't want to see everyone, so we could go for - ," Ron asked her.

"Alright, but if he's still asleep -"

"Oh no, we'll let him be," Ron interrupted, finishing her thought.

"Ok, yeah, then let's go and see," Hermione said back. She glanced over her shoulder at Ginny in an unspoken invitation but Ginny smiled sadly and shook her head.

As they climbed the stairs, Ron stopped and took Hermione's hand. She blinked once down at their joined hands before bringing her eyes to his.

"Ron, what is it?" Bald emotion, Hermione couldn't place which one, was writ plainly across his weary features. Her heart clenched painfully, simultaneously excited and anxious.

"I meant what I said last night," Ron said, seriously. Hermione wondered if his ears were red but couldn't tell with the way he bent his head down to hers, so close she could feel his minty breath on her face.

Hermione had been waiting to see if he'd remember it, what he had said in the middle of the battle as they ran to catch up to Harry in the Great Hall. "I did too."

He leaned in closer to her. Ron smelled like a mixture of the soap at Hogwarts, spearmint toothpaste, and her beaded bag. He kissed her gently on the cheek and wrapped her shoulders in his long arms. As they stood there on the second landing of the stairs, Ron put his chin on top of Hermione's head and she finally allowed herself to consider something that had been completely unthinkable until this day - the future.


	2. Trains and Secrets

_. . . Chapter 2_

_. . . Trains and Secrets . . ._

* * *

Ron looked behind him. Hermione had been right in the wake of him and Harry.

"Harry have you seen Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Right behind us," Harry said, glancing over his shoulder quickly. "Oh, let's stop and wait."

Ron and Harry stopped walking and moved to the left side of the cobbled walkway to the train platform at Hogwarts. Both craning to look over the sea of people for Hermione, for her brown hair and brown eyes. She'd be hard to spot, shorter than most people. Ron noticed with more than a little pleasure that Harry had to stand on his tip toes to see over the mob. Flat-footed and smug, Ron still couldn't see her. Panic began to rise and he started to wonder -

"There you two are!" Hermione exclaimed, flushed like she'd been running.

Ron and Harry turned around and saw Hermione coming from the direction of the train.

"I went ahead to get us a compartment with Ginny," Hermione said, pushing her hair out of her face with her left arm. Her sleeve slipped, just enough, o o d peaked out from under her green sweater. Hermione had already turned to go back to the train when Ron dragged his eyes off of her arm and looked to Harry. Harry clapped a hand on Ron's back with his mouth set in a grim line.

"Let's go home," Harry said.

Ron noted happily that Harry considered the Burrow home. Blimey, how many people were going to be there. He tried to list one person with every step he took. Mom and Dad. Bill and Fleur. Charlie and Percy. Fred and George. Ha-. Not Fred. He had been buried yesterday. Harry's hand still on his back pushed Ron forward - he hadn't realized he had quit walking.

"Al' righ, you three?" Hagrid asked quietly, or as quietly as Hagrid could be, and jarred Ron out of his stupor.

He, Hermione and Harry looked up and embraced Hagrid wordlessly.

"Oh, you three. Yer did great. Known you since you were only as big as my leg and now, yer all grown," Hagrid said thickly. He sniffed tremendously as the whistle sounded, drowning out the crowd but not Hagrid's booming voice, "an yer so brave. 'arry, Ron, 'Ermione? yer, well... yer like yer mine. Yer all'll write?"

"We will Hagrid! We will. We love you," Hermione answered brightly, tears in her eyes as she looked up at him. Ron looked down at her - she'd probably make him and Harry write Hagrid once a week under threats of hexing.

"Good, oh yer better go!" Hagrid said, wiping tears away with his thick fingers as the last of the students climbed onto the train.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry turned to the train and stepped onto the metal step of the third car.

"Which way?" Ron asked Hermione, looking left.

"Go left, um, fourth compartment?" She answered from behind him.

Ron glanced to his left as he made the way to their compartment, everyone in the three compartments they passed was looking out at them. They passed a few familiar faces - Seamus, Ernie, Luna and the faces of what seemed to be older students or parents. Had they come back for the fight or come for the funerals?

Relieved to see Ginny in a compartment by herself, Ron sat opposite her and dropped down beside the wall with a heavy thud just as the train started to move. Hermione grabbed to door frame to keep from falling back into the hall and Harry followed her through the door. Ron was disappointed when Hermione sat beside Ginny after a hurried glance around the compartment and turned to look out the window as the platform went by. Harry sat beside Ron and put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together, and tilted his head up at the ceiling with his eyes shut.

Hermione leaned her head over on Ginny's shoulder and lifted her legs up to put them on the seat between Ron and Harry but her feet missed the seat - too short. Ron watched, hiding a smirk with his right hand, as Hermione scooted down in her seat and reached her feet again with only slightly more success this time. Her heels rested on the seat beside Ron but not by much - one bump and her feet would fall off the edge. Ron pulled her feet over onto his thigh and put his hand on top of her ankles to keep them there. The bottom of her shoe sported a smear blood across the rubber sole. Gods was it hers? Ron looked up at her face, she had lifted her head off of Ginny and was staring at him, mouth slightly parted. Biting down on her bottom lip, she looked out the window as she leaned back against the checked black and blue fabric.

The silence between the four of them was peaceful and pleasantly empty. They had talked about their journey, cutting parts out for the sake of his parents. Malfoy Manor had been described as a 'run-in' while the break in to the Ministry was described as 'gathering information' but Gringotts they had to fess up about - been all over the _Daily Prophet _and everything hadn't it? Then they had talked about who had been killed, talked about who had survived, talked about who has been missing, talked about the future of Hogwarts. Talk - since they had woken up in Gryffindor tower.

He rubbed his eyes with his left hand and leaned against seat and soaked up the silence for over one glorious hour, Hermione's ankles still resting on his leg, until sleep claimed him. Ron woke when they restarted the train after the first stop and scooted inches away from Harry so he could lean his head against the compartment window.

"Harry! Mr. Potter? Have you seen our hero? Readers are dying for the first interview! No, not you - Harry Potter!" Rita Skeeter's voice carried through the hall and into their compartment.

The compartment door slammed shut and the curtains pulled down. Ron looked around - Ginny had her wand pointed at the door. Harry and Hermione were looking at her too.

"Stupid beetle," Ron said, peeking at Harry to gauge his reaction.

"Thanks," Harry said to Ginny.

"Just didn't want her shrieking in our compartment. 'Everyone loves a hero, Harry.' 'What is next for our conqueror?' 'What new secrets hide behind those eyes?' Had enough of all of that in third year. You all could have let me know something," Ginny went from joking to furious in one blink. She shifted and leaned forward aggressively on her arms.

Hermione quietly pulled her feet away from Ron. His hand fell onto his leg and the lack of gentle weight felt strange after the long time they had sat still.

"Gin' - we couldn't have done. We told you," Ron started.

"No, I want to hear it from Harry. I've given you three days now to explain. You've hardly talked to me about what happened over the last year," Ginny was fuming.

"I wanted to," Harry said. "I didn't know where to start." He shrugged. Not good enough.

"Start at why you left without saying goodbye - there's a start," Ginny's eyes flashed. Ron saw Hermione scoot an inch away from Ginny. He realized he and Hermione shouldn't be there for this but if they stepped out - beetle would grab them both and spin a tale for the _Daily Prophet_ or, Merlin forbid, a tell all book. Although maybe Skeeter was too afraid of Hermione's knowledge of her snooping insect days and would leave them alone. Which was worse?

"We had to leave at the wedding. It was our only chance to - "

"To go hunt down these 'horcruxes'? To break into the ministry, into Gringotts? To travel all around and to try to avoid getting killed at every turn? Do you have any idea," Ginny's voice broke and Ron looked up from his sleeve which he had been trying to pretend was highly interesting, "how worried I was? For all of you?"

Ginny wasn't crying but she looked like she had seriously broken through some mental barrier and was not holding it back any more. Harry was just looking up at Ginny, how long was he going to keep her waiting for an answer? Ron realized too that she had called it "break into the ministry" so maybe not everyone bought their 'safe-for-parents' version of the last year.

"I know. We worried about you. . .all of you, we listened to the radio every night," Harry said quietly.

"Well that's different! You knew exactly where I was!" Ginny gestured around the compartment wildly.

"Ginny, we did this for you. Well, I mean, and us - we went and did this for everyone. Riddle is gone, the rest of the Death Eaters will be next. We actually have a chance now - at a real future. Isn't that worth a year of ... of not being together?" Harry finished and looked at Ginny.

Ginny looked like she wanted to slap someone, Ron checked her hands - no wand. Good. She looked down at her empty hands and hid her face with a curtain of hair. When she finally looked up, Ron could tell Harry had said something right. Unbelievable, he lives with her for her whole life and Harry figures out how to diffuse the Wrath of Ginerva.

"Well, now you're making me feel selfish," Ginny said, teary eyed and smirking. Harry smiled at her - the first real smile Ron had seen from him since he'd danced with Ginny at the wedding. "Don't look at me like that, you've got a year's worth of making up to do." But Ginny sat back and looked out the window with tiny, tearful smile.

"So, after the Burrow? Are we going to Australia for Wendell and Monica?" Ron asked Hermione, anxious to end the conversation between his mate and his sister on a high note.

A look of panic crossed Hermione's face and Ron frowned.

"Actually, I've got to tell you something," Hermione said, taking a deep breath.


	3. Kisses and Ashes

_. . . Chapter 3_

_. . . Kisses and Ashes_

* * *

Hermione stepped out onto the dewy grass at the Burrow. The early morning sun was low and burned too brightly in her eyes. She'd told Ron, Harry, and Ginny about what Bellatrix had said at Malfoy Manor - her parents had been killed the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, before they had time to get out of England. At least she had said it was Crabbe that had gone and not Bellatrix because - well, they'd have been tortured as she had for information on a daughter they didn't even know existed.

They had reacted as she thought they would - Ron and Harry had been hurt that she hadn't told them but with everything else they had to worry about, Hermione had hidden and locked the horrible secret away and decided to grieve when she could. The entire last year had been about compartmentalizing and going forward in the face of horror, really. At Shell Cottage, Ron had caught her crying a few times and she had just let him believe it was because she was so shaken from the manor. They'd promised to come with her to her house and were sure to be coming out behind her onto the Burrow's lawn in a second. . .

She tugged at the front of her black jacket and lined up the sides of the zipper. Still cold in the mornings even though it was May. The sleeve hid her marred arm. She pulled the sleeve down to cover it more, just in case.

The door to the Burrow squealed on its hinges and Mr. Weasley, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Bill came outside. Mr. Weasley was carrying what looked like it could have been a shoe in a past life.

"Hermione," Mr. Weasley greeted her with a small, sad smile. "This is our Portkey. Since Hermione is the only one to know where her house is precisely - it'd be a little risky to Side-Along this many. When we're done there we can either take this or Apparate on our own back. If you Apparate back here, aim for farther away than that patch of grass," Mr. Weasley indicated a high patch of grass, "we've brought the wards back to just inside it but they're still up. Yes? Ok. Everybody ready?"

Everyone stepped forward and touched the 'shoe' and after a few seconds, whirling and being pulled from the stomach through space. Then they were all in her backyard. It was smaller than she remembered it or maybe she was just bigger. She turned to face the house.

Huge patches of smoke damage flashed up above every window. A section of wall was missing on the second floor at the far left - her parents' room. The roof had been blown apart and huge gaping holes were evident all over. She felt someone's hand clutch her shoulder but she shook it off and moved toward the patio and then to the kitchen door. Hermione reached out to pull it open and stumbled back as the white door fell - not attached to its hinges anymore - and the smell hit her like a wave. She stepped into the kitchen. There was something rotten on the stove and something moldy on the table, bread, maybe? She was suddenly overcome with a gripping fear and had to get to her parents' room - if all this was still here - what if they were still. . .

"Hermione!"

"'Mione, wait!"

Disregarding everyone following and calling her, Hermione took off at a run to the staircase in the living room, eyes lingering for only an instant on what was sure to be an almost nine month old blood stain. When she got to the upstairs, she saw her parents' bedroom door wide open at the end of the hall. Something smelled off about the upstairs and Hermione reached out to the hallway wall for support. She felt along the wall, edging closer to her parents' bedroom. She was vaguely aware of someone running up behind her. The second she rounded the corner - she fell to her knees and let out a sob.

Huge brown and black stains covered the beige carpet of her parent's usually spotless room. She was sure that this was where they had died but thank Merlin they weren't still here under the open sky with pollen coating the furniture in a thin film in their bedroom. She clamped her eyes shut and tilted her head up and let out a guttural cry - she had failed them. She'd known for months but seeing . . . They were dead and she was just relieved that they had been moved. Was she really that horrible? They had no shot without her around. Muggles who thought they didn't have a daughter - probably tortured and definitely killed by the very people she had tried so hard to keep them away from.

She lifted her arms up in surrendering defeat as she cried and felt two hands grab her at the waist as someone leaned down to pick her up off of the carpet. They lifted her up and carried her like a child out of the room. Somebody shut the door to her parents' room the instant she was out. Her face brushed against their face and she felt a thin piece of metal. Harry.

"I want to see my room," Hermione managed to choke out as she opened her eyes. "I've got some things there that I want."

"Where?" Harry asked quietly.

Ron and Ginny were crying beside them as Hermione looked around. Mr. Weasley and Bill were absent. Ron's tear stained face barely hid how furious and dejected Hermione knew he must be for her and Ginny's hand was pressed firmly against her mouth.

"I mean I knew they were dead but," Hermione sobbed. "I don't know. . .I needed to see after the house. Put me down," Hermione sniffed between sobs, "I'll go alone."

"We're coming, Hermione. We'll follow you," Harry said, gently setting her down. Ron put his hand on her back, gently trying to let her know he was there.

Hermione walked down the hallway, roughly wiping away her tears and trying to catch her breath. She'd known they were dead for over a month but maybe knowing something and seeing something were completely different. She had to calm down - you've known for a while, Hermione. Cry when you're alone at the Burrow.

She turned into her room. " M U D B L O O D " was smeared across the wall in what looked like blood. Hermione gasped but didn't turn around to even when she heard Ron punch her door frame and swear loudly. She moved over to her bed numbly and pointed her wand at it. "_Reducio_."

The bed burst in a yellow light and shrunk to the size of her dolls' beds when she was younger. "_Dissendium_."

The carpet below where the bed had been rolled up and away like a rolled up rug and revealed the wooden floorboards which transfigured into a set of wooden stairs. Hermione walked down the newly appeared staircase.

"This is where I put everything that I knew they couldn't see. When I, Ob. . .well when I left, I had to hide everything that they didn't need to see and that I didn't think we should take with us," Hermione said over her shoulder so that Ron and Harry would know what she was doing. Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. Small mercies.

"_Lumos_," she said, bathing the room in a dim glow. She heard other voices and more light came into the space which revealed the bags of her belongings and her parents' files. "Ok, let's pack."

"Hermione, pack in what?" Ginny asked, confused.

"Beaded bag, I'd wager. Lived out of it for the last year," Harry said, trying to catch Hermione's eye in an effort to cheer her up but she avoided him - she couldn't be cheered now. She had to be sensible, pack quickly, and then they'd leave and she'd be at the Burrow where she could cry in the shower all she wanted. With a deep breath, she put the bag down on the ground and - "_Reducio_," "_Wingardium Leviosa_," - dropped her life into a tiny bag.

She turned on her heel and made to go back up the stairs. Harry was right behind her and hurried to get out of her way. Bill's face appeared above her as she went up the hidden stairs.

"Checked the mail, wasn't much besides notices which dad and I can handle but there was this," Bill said, handing her a silver envelope.

She turned it over and saw a wildly ornate 'M' pressed into black wax which sealed the envelope. Stuffing it in her bag - this probably needed to be read alone if she was right about who'd sent it - Hermione locked eyes with Ron. She could tell he wanted to ask about it but had decided against it with a shake of his head.

"Are you ready?" He asked, looking down at her. The tone in his voice gave him away. She could tell more than anything that he was asking 'Are you ok?'

"Yes, let's - let's go." Hermione answered and reached her arm out to Ron. She couldn't stay a second longer - the house smelled tremendously and it didn't even feel like hers anymore. It hadn't really since she was eleven. Hogwarts had become home then, the muggle world didn't fit her after that. How many years had she taken her parents for granted. . . She let him take her back to the Burrow where they landed on the gravel drive in the morning light. They both staggered on the spot, still grasping hands.

"Hermione," Ron started but faltered and blinked tears back at Hermione with a creeping red starting up his ears. He wanted to say something else but didn't know how.

"Come on," she said. Maybe the letter didn't have to be read alone - she knew the seal must mean it was from the Malfoy family - what other 'M's did she know that would have a wax seal and silver envelopes?

Clasping hands, Hermione led Ron around the side of the house and back to the field where she had watched Ron and Harry play supremely boring games of Quidditch for the past few summers. What she wouldn't give to watch them play a bit now. She pulled down on Ron's arm and sat in the grass, crossing her legs in front of her. Ron sat beside her and she could feel him looking at her. Questions rained heavily from his face.

"I'm ok, or, will be. It's not like I was all that surprised I guess. It's just a lot to take in with everything else we have going on right now," she paused. Compartments. Minimizing. Secrets. Crying in showers would have to keep doing. "Actually, Bill pulled this letter out of the mail" - she reached into her bag - "and I was wondering if you'd read it with me?"

Ron nodded and let go of her hand and sat up straighter.

"Ok," she tore open the silver envelope -

"_Hermione, _

_ Your parents were laid to rest in the cemetery in Godric's Hollow as near to the Potters as was possible. We sincerely wish there was more we could do and more we could have done._

_ Narcissa and Draco_"

She shakily handed the letter to Ron and shut her eyes, leaning back against the grass in the warming sun. Relief washed over her and a feeling of tenderness she didn't think the Malfoy family would ever have deserved before built up in her. So her parents rested with Harry's. . .it felt right. They didn't have a family cemetery for the Grangers so maybe the Potter family cemetery was where her family belonged.

Atonement and forgiveness.

She unzipped her jacket and slid her arms out of it, balling it up and using it as a pillow.

"Blimey," Ron said in awe. "Wonder if they did that after we were at the manor?"

"I assume so. Probably couldn't risk it until He was gone so - bet it was in the last few days," she whispered with her eyes snapped shut. Sun flitted through her eyelids turning them a pinky beige.

"Are you sad you missed it?" Ron asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at Ron questioningly.

He looked embarrassed and muttered, "Their funerals or, I guess their burials."

"Oh," she shut her eyes again. ". . .I'm sad that I missed being with them when they needed it. And, yes - I wish I had been there. Maybe we could have a memorial for them after things settle down. I know that they have a will with their last wishes in the files I saved and I had just really hoped I wouldn't have to read it." A few tears slipped out but she couldn't blubber in front of Ron who was already surely watching her with his eyebrows knitted together and his jaw clenched as he did every time he got deeply worried.

She felt a large hand brush the tears away and her breath hitched. She felt him lean over her, shading her from the sun. Her face got noticeably colder in his shadow. An instant later she felt his lips on hers, soft and slow. Her mind was racing and she tried to still it and be in this glorious moment with Ron - in the sun and happy. Put her pain in one place and be in this place. As the minutes melted by, Ron tentatively deepened the kiss. Her stomach flipped, Hermione reached up and put a small hand on Ron's shoulder then, timidly, in his hair. Eventually, he broke away from her and reached down for her left arm. She hadn't remembered her scar when she had taken off her jacket -

Ron ran his fingers excruciatingly slow over the letters there. She didn't dare open her eyes and see the look on her face. That word - the worst word - how could he ever look at her the same? Ron pulled her arm up and leaned his head down and kissed the inside of her wrist. She snapped her eyes open, mouth open in surprise. He seemed to regret what he had just done. Ears reddened and the corners of his mouth turned down. She patted the grass beside her. She felt so raw with everything: with Ron being so new and with her parents, and with the Weasley family's grieving. Hermione took Ron's hand and they lay in silence in the sun.

After a few minutes of looking up at the sky, her stomach let out a horrible rumble.

Ron sat up and looked at her like she had two heads.

"Usually it's me making gastric noises," he teased. In one motion he stood and tenderly pulled her up with him. "Did you have any breakfast?"

She shook her head no.

"Well, inside. Lunch," Ron said. "Wait."

He pulled her around to face him.

"If you need anything -"

"I know. Ron, I . . ." Hermione tried not to blush as she said it for only the second time. "I love you," she said, thickly.

He smiled down at her, squinting slightly in the sun. "I love you too."


	4. Grilled Cheese and the Order of Merlin

_. . . Chapter 4 _

_. . . Grilled Cheese and the Order of Merlin . . . _

* * *

Ron led Hermione back to the front of the house and into the small Burrow kitchen. Harry and mum were sitting in silence at the table. When he and Hermione came into the room, Harry scooted his chair back noisily and jumped up to walk over to them.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Hungry, though," she answered. Harry pulled Hermione into a hug. Ron tried to ignore that familiar jealous pang. He clenched his teeth together and let out a breath through his nose.

Mum jumped up and flicked her wand at the pots and pans and out flew an iron skillet which smacked raucously onto the stove.

"Grilled cheese, dear?" mum offered quickly to Hermione. "Turkey sandwich? 'fraid all we have are sandwiches for now but Fleur has run to the store for more before they leave tonight. Bit of a full house."

He had to admire how well she had been doing with Fred. Maybe she was hiding it though - well not hiding it, coping. Coping with it by way of food - delicious food. She'd been cooking non-stop since they had come back from King's Cross. Cakes and pastys of every type were covering every surface of the kitchen. Not that Ron minded, it had been a hungry year but if they had this around all the time he'd start to seriously resemble Slughorn.

His stomach tightened in horror when _Fred's dead_ fluttered across his brain. He quickly shut off that thought. Put that thought where leaving Hermione for months, hearing Hermione's screams, and all the other things that were too hard to feel went.

"Grilled cheese would be great," Hermione said. "I'll make it if -"

"Non-sense! Sit! You too, Ron?"

"Erm, yeah. Thanks mum," he wasn't going to ask but was glad to accept her offer when Hermione did.

Hermione pulled out a chair and sat at the long table. Ron walked over and took the seat beside her. Harry sat across from Hermione. The three of them were like one unit - one moves, they all move. He wondered suddenly if Harry was upset or weirded out by his and Hermione's new. . . whatever it was. The silence amplified in the room. It was uneasy - not between the three of them but just an uneasy feeling settled over them all. Like they were all thinking the same thing but couldn't put a finger on it. He felt the tips of his ears going red. His mum bustled right behind Harry furiously cooking and they weren't talking with everything that had happened this morning.

He looked up at the window and was surprised but so thankful to see a huge brown owl coming toward the open window - something to talk about - thank Merlin.

The bird dropped five letters onto the table and flew straight out. No treats for you, then. Hasty, stupid bird. He scowled at the bird as it flew off.

Ron grabbed the one on top - it was addressed to Hermione. He passed it along and saw that there was one for him, one for Harry, one for his mum and dad, and one for Percy. Percy?

"Well? What's the news?" mum asked, back still turned to them.

"Ord... of Mer..." Harry muttered.

Hermione looked up at Harry shocked and tore into hers and Ron did the same. A hand-written note fell out but he ignored it for a moment.

_ "Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley,_

_ On behalf of the Ministry of Magic and the magical community, I am honored to invite you to the ceremony bestowing you with the Order of Merlin, First Class. The ceremony will be held on Saturday, May 16. _

_ Directly after the ceremony, the Remembrance Ball will be a formal ball intended to remember the ones we have lost and celebrate the movement forward from this dark time._

_ Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt"_

He looked up at Hermione and Harry. Mum was burning the grilled cheese, reading Harry's letter over Harry's shoulder. The silence in the room felt heavy. . .Mum shrieked and, remembering, flipped the sandwich onto a plate and practically threw it in front of Hermione.

"Order of Merlin!" she said, clutching at her heart. "Well I can't imagine that anyone has ever deserved it more than you three! ARTHUR! KITCHEN!" mum shouted, waving her spatula around like a wand as if to summon dad.

Ears ringing from shouts that could deafen a dead Blast-Ended Skrewt, Ron picked up the handwritten note and saw that Hermione and Harry had notes too.

_"Ron - _

_ A board of Reviewers has been selected to review the journey that you took in this last year and put together a timeline of the last year. Also, this will be time for gathering information on Death Eaters at large. These meetings will rely on your testimony and, when necessary or applicable, might require the Ministry to be in possession of memories that are key to the destruction of the Dark Lord in a Pensieve to be kept under lock at the Ministry for posterity. The first of these meetings will take place on Monday, May 11th, at nine am. Please use the guest entrance and we will procure passes for the regular entrance at a later date or connect you by Floo. I will meet you in the lobby, in front of the fountain._

_ - Kingsley"_

Ron looked up. His parents had opened their letter and his mum was crying. Hermione reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it uncomfortably. He whipped around in his seat to look at her but she was staring up at mum and dad.

"What is it, dad?" asked Ron.

"Invitation," his dad said, smiling. He walked forward to Ron and leaned down to embrace him over the back of the chair. "We're so proud, Ronald. Huge thing you did - " he stood up. He turned his back to Ron before Ron could get a good look at his face. "You'll need new dress robes," he squeaked in the weirdest voice before he left the room.

It all felt so surreal. They lived. They all three lived. Order of Merlin.

"So the ministry? Monday?" Harry asked brightly.

Hermione was staring at her letter. "Ministry. . . Monday. . . testimonies? We'll have to show them memories. . .of everything?" Her voice hung on the last word.

"Yeah but I'm sure it'll be helpful for history books, Hermione," Harry looked like a kid on Christmas, he was almost sing-songy with his answer.

"Excited, mate?" Ron asked.

"Well not excited exactly but, well we'll be tracking down and rounding up the Death Eaters won't we?" Harry seemed back to his normal self - guess it just took a mission of some kind. He'd been awfully and painfully quiet in the last few days.

"What else was there?" mum asked drying her eyes and motioning to the note Ron was holding.

"Ministry has called us in for our testimony of the last year," he said. "We start Monday."

She looked confused. "You'll be working for the Ministry?"

"Uh...Er, I guess so," Ron answered, turning over Kingsley's note looking at the back for any other information. Blank.

Mum looked confused and looked down at the last letter. "Percy?" She looked at Ron like he knew something. He didn't know anything. Hadn't they all gotten the letters a second ago? He shrugged.

"Hmph, he's out. Guess we'll wait!" she made her way over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "So proud, Ronald. So proud. Sandwich?"

He was vaguely aware of nodding. Hermione was looking, almost smiling, down at her burned sandwich and silently taking off the charred bits with her wand. Harry was almost giddy looking. Had he really been that bored and restless without some larger task to accomplish? His mood would improve at least.

Ron looked around the room for something to occupy his mind - newspaper. Well maybe it would have something about the rebuilding at school.

He reached back to the table behind him and grabbed the rolled up paper - it didn't look like it had been opened yet today. He unrolled the Daily Prophet in front of him.

A picture of himself, Harry and Hermione took up almost half of the front page. They were at the mass funeral at Hogwarts. The three of them had evidently just walked out onto the carpet laid out across the grass that started at the back row of the seats and went all the way to the caskets and the stage at the front. Hermione had one arm around each of them and they were walking solemnly toward their seats with the Weasley family walking behind them. At the end of the scene in the photograph, Harry looked directly up at the camera and then off in the distance and the scene restarted.

The article was about the funerals and, Ron was sure, the lives lost, but he didn't read it - he slid it over to the side away from Hermione so she didn't have to think about death anymore today. Did Harry ever feel this weird about people's attention being focused on him? What if he actually liked a bit of attention? He glanced over at the picture. Hermione looked. . .stunning with her hair blowing slightly in the wind, even with the scratch across her cheek and the somber look on her face. Harry looked exhausted, understandable. How did he look? Tall, obviously. But he wasn't too skinny anymore and he wasn't as pale next to Hermione as he thought he'd look. The three of them, together and safe. He thought about their morning and amended that thought: sad and hurt but together and safe. He elbowed Hermione as he looked up at mum - his mum had cooked a platter of grilled cheeses in the time Ron had been zoned out and was plating the last one.

Hermione turned to him and smirked. His mum turned around and put the platter in front of Ron. There had to be at least thirty grilled cheeses.

"Mum?" he asked, grinning.

"Hmm?" she looked completely unaware that she had cooked enough grilled cheeses for a quidditch team or two and had her eyebrows raised at Ron.

Hermione looked like she was about to choke then she started giggling. Harry looked at the platter and then at Hermione and then made eye contact with Ron. Harry and Ron burst into laughter as an unexplainable, uncontrollable hilarity ensued. They were on the front page of the paper. They were going to be suddenly working for the ministry. They had all lived through the last year. They had seen the place that the murder of Hermione's parents had taken place that morning. He had snogged Hermione for the first time and mum's grief had manifested in food. Was every single day going to be this weird? Harry had started wiping his tears of laughter away and Hermione was clutching her side, grinning, when Fleur burst in -

"'O 'ello! Eet ees so good to see you all! Ze store, ze 'orrible store! But I vill haf to go back. Zhey were all out of ze apples and ze bread and ze cheese!"

All three of them were set off again. Hermione had started crying from laughing, Harry had started again.

"We're working for the ministry!" Harry gasped.

"Malfoy buried," Hermione panted for air, "my parents. Malfoy!"

"The ministry was trying," Harry huffed, " to kill us last week!" Hermione slapped her hand down on the table and wheezed from laughter.

"We're on the front page of the paper," Ron added, guffawing.

"There are," Hermione laughed, "so many grilled cheeses!"

"The stores can't even keep up!" Harry said, finally slowing his laughter down to a chuckle.

Ron looked up, grinning. Fleur was frozen in the doorway her eyes were huge and mum was standing with her spatula gaping like a fish at the three of them. He swallowed the laughter still trying to rise in his throat.

"Mum? Fleur? Alright?"

"O, uhh. Um, oui. Molly? Ze groceries? O, ah, vou will help me find vhere to put zhem?"

"Oh, um. Of course."

Hermione was still grinning and wiping away more tears when she stood up from the table. "I'm gonna go find Ginny."

Ron watched her small form as she left the room and went up the stairs to Ginny's room. "Want to head outside for a game?" he asked Harry, anxious to end this conversation on a high note.

"Sure," Harry answered as he happily stacked all of their letters and invitations and pilled them neatly at the end of the kitchen table. Ron clapped a hand on Harry's back and they walked outside.

The door swung shut behind them with a smack.


	5. Scars and the Ministry

**AN**: For the rest of this story, I'll be using quotes directly from the series. I'm not pretending to own any of it, just playing with JK's amazing work. Thanks!

_. . . Chapter 5_

_. . . Scars and the Ministry . . ._

* * *

Hermione sat on Ginny's bed with all of her nicest clothes laid out across her bed. It was eight thirty, Monday morning and she had very reluctantly agreed to let Ginny help her pick out her outfit after Ginny's relentless pestering.

"Ginny, just pick a shirt already," Hermione huffed. "It doesn't matter that much, it's one meeting."

"You're going to be photographed, the _Daily Prophet _people probably know this is happening and I want to help. Here! Try this," Ginny thrust a short sleeve, v-neck shirt at Hermione.

Hermione held it and stared at Ginny. Short sleeves. . .

"Well? Aren't you going to try it?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, um," Hermione stalled. "Ginny, will you turn around?"

"What? Are you kidding?" Ginny asked, incredulously. "You've changed in front of me before! Quit being modest, Hermione, it's just me!"

Hermione yanked her robe sleeves all the way down on her arms and bit her lip Did Ginny know about her scars on her arm? The scars on her arm had never completely healed, cursed on her arm forever. The letters were still a dull red and looked like they had been scratched into her arm yesterday instead of weeks and weeks ago. Hermione had tried glamours but they seemed to fade and took more concentration than she was willing to give to her scars. She also had scars down her back from hers and Harry's close call at Godric's Hollow. That had been a painful night . . .

"Seriously?" Ginny said, obviously irritated when Hermione wouldn't change.

"Ginny -", Hermione sighed, she'd see them eventually if they kept living in the same room. "Ok, if you react badly then I'm never wearing short sleeves again for the rest of my life," Hermione slid the robe off, revealing her bra and pajama shorts she had on. She flipped her arm over and presented it to Ginny as she looked over and out the window so she didn't have to see Ginny's face.

She heard Ginny let out a heavy breath. "So, why would you not want to wear this shirt?"

Hermione turned and gave Ginny what she hoped was a horrific sneer but Ginny laughed shakily in response.

"No, really Hermione. Look, Hermione." Ginny was standing right in front of her. "You're kind of a badass. You've been through so much. I'd wear it like a badge! Own it, Hermione! You can't wear long sleeves for the rest of your life anyway - you'd look completely deranged at the beach. 'Oh, fancy a swim?' 'Why yes I'd love to, I'm just going to wear this wool coat and my swimsuit bottoms!' Try on the shirt!"

"Fine! I'll try it, but I don't want to walk around with everyone staring!" she said as she pulled on the shirt.

"Um, truth? Everyone is going to be staring. The three of you haven't gone out in public since the funerals last week. Plus you're going to look totally gorgeous in that shirt and..." Ginny grabbed a pair of Hermione's best jeans, "these jeans."

Hermione looked at her reflection after she had changed into her jeans. She pressed her arm against her side so the scar was hidden against her.

"No! Walk around the room, get comfortable with it Hermione. It's your skin! Badge, remember?"

Hermione felt ridiculous, Ginny was prodding her in the back with her finger, making her walk around the room in circles. Like a hamster. Hamster Hermione with her flashing red sign 'HEY, LOOK HERE! HUGE AND OFFENSIVE SCAR!'

"See? Totally natural!" Ginny said.

"Ginny, it's not natural. It's the worst word I can think of and I'm wearing it." She felt her stomach churn horribly and swallowed the urge to get sick.

"If you don't let it bug you, it won't bug you," Ginny said, seriously. "Really, Hermione? Wear this and get used to it. People will stare, people will ask questions but then . . .Hermione, look at me - "

Hermione turned to look at Ginny, ripping her eyes off of her marred reflection.

"- then they will have their answers and it will be old news and they'll be on to the next thing!" Ginny said with an awful false-seeming cheerfulness.

Hermione knew Ginny was right about people getting over it but would she be able to get over it? She couldn't take a bath or take a shower without agonizing over it. She'd wear this shirt and see: 'own it', and see. She'd have Ron and she'd have Harry as she walked into the Ministry. If it was too horrible, she'd take a sweater - ugh, no - she would not take a thing besides what she actually needed for the meeting.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Girls? Ready? We're about to leave, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said through the scratched wooden door.

Hermione sighed and picked up her purse - well, Ginny's, she was borrowing - and headed downstairs to meet Ron, Harry, and Mr. Weasley who was to accompany them.

They'd found out that Percy's letter had been sent because he was to be part of the Reviewers when he had come to Bill and Fleur's last dinner at the Burrow before they went back to Shell Cottage. Since then the last few days had been a blur - Harry had gone and seen Teddy for a day, Crookshanks had seemed to have forgiven Hermione for abandoning him at the Burrow for the last year and had become extremely clinging, George had gone back to the shop and had asked Lee Jordan to help him while he got the shop cleaned up and stocked again, and they'd spoken with Neville who had been offered a job as an assistant to Professor Sprout which had gotten Hermione thinking about what the future would hold for the three of them - an exhausting blur.

Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Ron stuffing a biscuit into his mouth with one hand and holding a piece of ham in the other. His was turned at an angle to her - her heart skipped and her stomach seemingly flipped over as she walked through the doorway into the kitchen, also known as Molly Weasley's bakery these days.

"Charming, Ronald," she said, before he could see her, and smirked up at him.

He almost choked on his breakfast when he snapped his head in her direction. Red tipped the edges of his ears and his cheeks. Hermione almost felt guilty for teasing but he should really be using a plate. Then she remembered her arm.

"Oh, is it too awful?" she asked, shrugging and turning her arm just a little.

He swallowed the enormous bite. "No," he cleared his throat, "I didn't notice it until you pointed it out. If anyone sees it Hermione - it's not . . . it's not what or who you are. I'm glad you're not hiding it." He was looking at her with an expression of...love? admiration? Something she couldn't put a finger on but liked.

She walked over to him slowly and put a hand on either side of him against the counter. She stood up on her toes and leaned in for a kiss -

"Ready? Oh, erm," Harry faltered. Hermione sank back down to her normal height and Ron stuffed the ham in his mouth.

"Outside, then? Yeah?" Harry tried to recover.

Ugh. Ron had started laughing but his cheeks were bright pink.

"Shut it, Ronald. Let's go," she said, sharply.

Ron followed her outside as she stormed out to meet Harry's sheepish eyes and Mr. Weasley.

"So we'll Apparate to the guest entrance. I'll take Ron and Harry - you've been, you take Hermione," Mr. Weasley said and Hermione noticed his eyes on her arm. Fantastic.

Hermione moved over to Harry and reached out for his arm. He looked back at her like he wanted to say something so she stopped it before he could start.

"Not a word or I'll make sure to start trying to catch you and Ginny when you're trying to kiss and make up," she whispered to him.

They Disapparated on the spot and she felt the pressure release when they were standing beside a dumpster in a disgusting alley.

"Ok, it's this way," Harry supplied and grabbed her arm to led her to the phone booth. It wasn't until he had grabbed her scarred arm that he had noticed her arm and looked down at it in his hand. Well that was a good sign wasn't it? That he'd had to feel it to realize it was there.

"Ginny told me to quit covering it," Hermione said lamely. The word itched on her arm and she fought the urge to touch it with her other hand.

"No, it's good. Very - what did Luna say? - very devil-may-care," Harry said as he walked beside her and smiled.

Hermione rallied and gave Harry a small smile as they walked over to the phone booth. After a moment or two they saw Mr. Weasley and Ron approaching from the opposite side of the booth.

"All in?" Mr. Weasley asked and then stepped into the booth.

There was absolutely not enough room. Ron followed his dad in, then Harry pressed Hermione's back gently to help her in. She was pressed up against Ron's front and when Harry got in, his back was against hers. This had to be the smallest space four people had been in since they had come in fifth year - how had they all fit then? Hamster Hermione was cramped. Out of the cage, please! She smirked at her little metaphor joke and then realized she was referring to herself as a rodent. Her smirk faded quickly.

The booth sank through the pavement and descended into the lobby of the Ministry where Hermione was relieved to see a golden fountain instead of the horrific throne of Muggles that had been there last. It seemed lighter - the place and the air both.

After soaking up the vastly improved feel of the space for just a few seconds everyone walking in the lobby had stopped and had turned toward them.

"Alright, Kingsley said the fountain?" Harry said, ignoring the gathering crowd.

The four of them walked forward and a few people in the crowd started clapping. Then a few started shouting 'Well done, Harry!' 'Mr. Weasley!' 'Harry!' 'So brave!' 'Ron!' 'Did you really break into Gringotts?' 'Hermione!' 'How'd you do it?' 'Miss Granger!'

Suddenly, as the crowd erupted, the lobby felt extremely small and Hermione realized she was pressing her arm against her purse. Relax, Hermione, she tried to school herself. It's there, it's not going away just like these people are here and they're not going away either.

Thankfully, Kingsley was waiting on them in front of the fountain when they had moved by and through the people.

"This way to the elevators, we're heading to a secure room where the crowds won't be a distraction," Kingsley said, his quick steps' click on the marble was being obscured by the clamor of the people in the lobby.

Once they were in the elevator and the decibel level had dropped to that of a jackhammer, Kinglsey pushed an unmarked button and they felt the elevator lurch to life and drop a floor and then speed forward. When the elevator came to a screeching to a halt Hermione stumbled and flung an arm out and Mr. Weasley grabbed it to steady her.

"Takes some getting used to," he smiled at her, letting her arm drop as the grille on the elevator opened. She watched him glance down almost imperceptibly at the arm his hand had just released. She nodded once up at him.

Kinglsey led the way to a set of enormous glass doors and opened them, holding them for the group to enter the room.

Hermione gasped. The room was about twenty feet tall - glass walls were all around with water flowing down the sides of the walls. She looked up - water and gold. It was like being in a waterfall in a glass box. The sound in here was a gentle hum from the water.

"We're under the fountain and statue!" she exclaimed as she walked across the white marble floor, looking up at the fountain. "It's beautiful in here." The light was all tinted gold because of the statue above and the light from the lobby - there were no sources of light in the glass room.

Kingsley smiled amicably at them and gestured toward the table and chairs. "Please sit and I'll go tell them you're here."

Hermione made her way to the large, dark wooden table and pulled a heavy wooden chair out for herself. She sat down - so uncomfortable - she stood back up and pointed her wand at the chair '_Spongify_' she cast silently. She sat down on what felt like a plush armchair. 'You're welcome, whoever sits here next,' she thought smugly to herself.

"Well, you lot are taken care of and I'm late for work. Misuse continues," Mr. Weasley said, backing out of the room with a wave.

Ron was wiping his hands on his pants legs in a chair across from her. He must have been anxious as she was.

Kingsley walked back into the room. Followed by an extremely tall, blond woman and a shorter, supremely hairy man, and Percy. Kingsley looked around the room.

"You're in my personal conference room. We're looking for a place to hold these meetings that can be permanent because I tend to use this space a lot. Well then! This is Lenora Kirkly, she will be transcribing these meetings and keeping a record of all memories for the purpose of preserving your legacy and accurately translating this to future generations."

The woman nodded curtly at the room. She was so thin - scary thin, flimsy almost. How were her legs holding her up? Her hair was silver blond like Lucius Malfoy's but her eyes were dark brown and kind.

"And this is Francis Parnell, he's a Senior Auror in our Department of Magical Law Enforcement and he'll be in charge of the track down of Death Eaters and associates and will supervise all meetings to gain information regarding any of the Death Eaters or so-called Snatchers."

Parnell looked around the room with a warm smile but Hermione was distracted by his impressive unibrow.

"And you know Percy. He'll be the one keeping me informed of progress, keeping the Reviewers on schedule, and he'll be the one issuing statements to the media - should they need to be informed of something."

Percy looked very seriously at the group.

"And that's it for me, I've got a meeting with Minerva about the rebuilding effort - going well by the way. See you all soon," Kingsley said as he left the room. "Oh! I've just remembered," Kingsley came back into view. "I'll need you three to stick around after the meeting, we'll get lunch at the Leaky Caldron and discuss arrangements for the next year or so." He had indicated Hermione, Ron, and Harry. What sort of arrangements? Would these meetings go on for a year? School, maybe? Would she go back? Kingsley's purple robes swished out of the door.

Parnell, Lenora, and Percy sat down at the table and broke Hermione out of her reverie.

"Well! We know who you three are and I've got a lunch date with the wife - let's start." Parnell boomed across the table as he leaned forward in his chair.

"Alright, well this is our first meeting and we'd like to start at the beginning for you all and see how we progress from there," Lenora addressed the group.

Hermione looked to Harry and saw Ron do the same.

"What beginning?" Harry asked, seriously.

"Probably when you left the Burrow would be best. Didn't you three leave at the wedding?" Percy asked.

"Oh, yeah. We'll start there," Harry said.

"Ok, what was the date?" Lenora asked, getting her quill and a roll of official looking parchment out.

"August 1st," Harry said, looking at Hermione. She'd tell them about her parents if it came up. They might already know, she decided.

"Ok, and may we get a memory record of this event?" Lenora asked, flicking her wand at her enormous bag and levitating a Pensieve onto the table.

"Erm, sure," Harry looked at her, puzzled. "From all three of us or one?"

"Oh, sorry, we should have further explained, Francis," Lenora cut her eyes at Parnell as if it were his fault that they were uninformed. "When your memories differ dramatically from each other, we might require two or all three even. However, when your memories are the same - such as when you are all together for the duration of the memory - then one will suffice," Lenora spoke. She had excellent, pearly teeth.

Harry put his wand to his head and pulled a silvery thread out and let it drop into the Pensieve.

"Shall we watch? Or will we be entering testimony verbally?" Parnell asked.

Harry looked back at Hermione and at Ron. "Do you want to just see it or recount it?"

"See it," Ron answered. "I'm not sure I could tell them exactly where we were." He looked over at Hermione as if to ask her if she could. She could remember where they had Apparated to but not exactly where they had walked to so she shrugged at Ron.

"Alright, let's stand and dive in," Parnell said loudly as he pushed his chair back.

All the chairs being pushed back echoed like groans in the glass box. Everyone was leaning in over the Pensieve and Hermione did the same.

Then they were back in the beautiful wedding tent, standing beside Harry who looked about an inch shorter than the one standing just on the other side of her.

_"I simply can't dance anymore. Ron's gone looking to find more butterbeers. It's a bit odd, I've just seen Viktor storming away from Luna's father, it looked like they'd been arguing -" Hermione looked at Harry closely, massaging one foot with a shoe off. "Harry, are you okay?" _

All of the Reviewers watched a lynx, Kingsley's Patronus, twist and dance into the middle of the space.

_"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

The Reviewers watched the memory Harry and Hermione jump to their feet and were frantically looking around as people fled and screams erupted. She realized with a shock that she had only had one shoe on - she looked ridiculous, frantically bobbing up and down in the crowd. She hadn't even realized it at the time.

_"Ron! Ron, where are you?" Hermione was shouting and Harry grabbed her and together they pushed their way through the crowd._

_"Ron! Ron!" Hermione had started to get hysterical so Harry reached and took her hand to make sure they could not be separated. Then Ron appeared from the crowd and grabbed Hermione's hand._

An instant later, the Reviewers were experiencing the oddest Apparation ever. The Reviewers were standing completely still while everything around them spun and stretched.

_"Where are we?" Ron asked._

_"Tottenham Court Road," Hermione gasped. "Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change."_

She was surprised at how calm she sounded. Sure, she was panting and obviously nervous but she didn't even remember saying anything, just panicking the whole way to the alleyway to try to pull their clothes out. She looked around at Harry who to her surprise didn't look as confused as she thought he would. She made eye contact with Ron.

"This is so odd isn't it?" Hermione asked him.

"Sorry! So, sorry. I should have told you, no speaking. I'm transcribing!" Lenora said quickly.

Hermione blushed and shut her trap instantly. Rebuked on the first day. The Reviewers were following the memory versions of Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

_"It's okay, I've got the Cloak, I've got clothes for both of you. Just try and act naturally until - this will do." _

_"When say you've got the Cloak, and clothes..." Harry looked at Hermione's tiny bag._

_"Yes, they're here."_

Hermione watched herself lead Ron and Harry down an alley and pull out clothes for Ron and Harry along with the Invisibility Cloak. Ron leaned in and she felt his breath rustle her hair.

"I forgot to tell you that you're amazing. That was so brilliant," Ron whispered.

She felt herself glow with pride for a second and leaned back so that her shoulders were against his chest for a second until she caught Parnell's eye. Maybe now wasn't the time. She leaned forward and paid extra attention to the scene before her.

_"When did you do all this?" asked Harry. _

_"I told you at the Burrow, I've had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway. I packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here...I just had a feeling..." _

_"You're amazing, you are," Ron told her._

She smiled to herself, he hadn't forgotten to tell her at all, had he? She caught Ron's eye and smiled at him. The memory version of Harry vanished from sight and they heard his voice from where he had just been standing.

_"The others - everyone at the wedding -"_

_"We can't worry about that now. It's you they're after, Harry, and we'll just put everyone in even more danger by going back." Hermione whispered._

_"She's right," Ron agreed. "Most of the Order was there, they'll look after everyone."_

Thank heavens that had been true. What if everyone hadn't been safe - would they have had the strength to stay away from Ron's family or from their friends if something had gone differently? She glanced up at Lenora who was frantically taking notes on her scroll. Lenora was writing like she was a professional quillist - what a great skill! If only she had been able to do that in Ancient Runes...

She heard herself explaining why she'd chosen that spot to Apparate and tried to pay attention - were they supposed to be paying attention and filling in the gaps of knowledge or weren't they?

Men were wolf-whistling at her from the other side of the street.

"_All right, darling? Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!" The drunkards yelled at Hermione. _

She noticed Ron was about to yell back and watched her memory self put a hand on Ron's stomach and start speaking again. He had had an "Eat Slugs" face on that calmed dramatically when she had touched him.

_"Let's sit down somewhere. Look, this will do, in here."_

The Reviewers followed the memory into the all-night cafe and stood, crowded beside the table that the three sat down at.

_"You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross -" Ron started._

_"Ron, we can't!" snapped Hermione. _

_"Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!" Ron shot back, defensively._

_"We know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?" Hermione said. _

She cringed the second she heard herself say it. 'Voldemort'. That was what had gotten them into the fight that was about to ensue here and it's what had gotten them caught and taken to the manor. She felt a chill as she realized that it was a highly clever and calculated move by the Death Eaters to - oh what did Ron call it? - 'taboo' the name.

_"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?" Ron asked her."_

_"I've been practicing and I think so."_

_"Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble, though they might've been arrested already. God, that's revolting," Ron said, making a horrible face at his obviously bad coffee. "Let's get going, then, I don't want to drink this muck. Hermione, have you got Muggle money to pay for this?"_

She had the muggle money - she had gone to the bank before she had even gone to the Burrow and emptied out all her savings. She had asked her parents - she ignored the guilty pang at that - for extra money for new robes too and taken some out of their account too before she had left them. Thank Merlin she had, they had nearly run out by the end of the year.

The Death Eaters had stood up from their table and the Reviewers all watched Harry draw his wand, ever alert, and Ron had pushed Hermione to where she was lying sideways on the bench. Harry had quickly knocked out the larger, blond Death Eater - Rowle. He was trying to stun Dolohov but the spell rebounded and blew the waitress to the ground.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Hermione whipped around and realized she had immobilized Dolohov. She watched herself crawl out from under the bench she had been on just moments ago and shake glass out of her hair.

_"D-diffindo!"_

Hermione inhaled a breath through her teeth with a hiss and looked at Ron beside her. Her spell had cut a deep gash in his leg as she had tried to cut the ropes off of him. He was making a ghastly face, watching the scene unfold.

_"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ron, my hand's shaking! Diffindo!" _ _Hermione cut the ropes off of Ron._

_"I should've recognized him, he was there the night Dumbledore died," said Harry._

_"That's Dolohov," Ron said as Harry turned the Petrified Death Eater over. "I recognize him from the old wanted posters. I think the big one's Thorfinn Rowle."_

_"Never mind what they're called! How did they find us? What are we going to do?" she shrieked in a frenzy. _

Hermione felt Ron grab her hand and rub his thumb over the knuckle on her index finger. She was getting nervous just watching this memory and she guessed Ron was too.

_"Lock the door," Harry ordered, "and Ron, turn out the lights." _

The light dimmed around the Reviewers.

_"What are we going to do with them?" Ron whispered to Harry. "Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now."_

Hermione was so glad they had decided against that, just hearing it made a chill run up her spine. She couldn't bear it if they had used that particular curse.

_"We just need to wipe their memories. It's better like that, it'll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here," Harry answered._

_"You're the boss. But I've never done a Memory Charm," said Ron._

_"Nor have I, but I know the theory...Obliviate." _

_"Brilliant! Take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron and I clear up," Harry said, clapping Hermione on the back._

She took a second to look around, watching herself Obliviate them was strange. It felt wrong somehow. Parnell was walking around the scene, just observing. Lenora was scratching away at the parchment that she had levitated in front of her which would also be so useful. She rejoined the scene in time to see herself acting particularly nasty toward Ron -

_"Too tight, well! Well, Ronald, you can just stick that wand where the sun can't find it."_

Harry was grinning when Hermione looked up and Hermione was surprised but relieved when Ron didn't let go of her hand.

_"How did they find us? How did they know where we were?" _

"So? What happened? Did they remember you or -" Parnell started loudly from the other side of Lenora. His noise was so unexpected that Hermione jumped after all the whispers from the memory.

Lenora shushed him dramatically and attacked the parchment with new fervor.

_"But Harry hasn't been near a Death Eater in the last twenty-four hours. Who's supposed to have put a Trace back on him?" Ron was asking._

_"If I can't use magic, and you can't use magic near me, without us giving away our position -" began Harry._

_"We're not splitting up!"_

_"We need a safe place to hide. Give us time to think things through."_

Hermione noticed how much she was shaking next to Ron and Harry as the three of them sat there in that cafe. Had she always been the weakest? In first year she hadn't done anything useful for them besides reason out some potions. Second year she'd gone and gotten petrified. Third year she'd been useful - punching Malfoy and using her Time Turner. Fourth year she'd...not a whole lot. Fifth year, ok yes the Department of Mysteries. Sixth year, be jealous of Lavender and want to strangle Ron so nothing spectacular or even good there. And then now in this last year - was she stronger? Probably. So why did she look so small and terrified next to them?

_"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater. If I've still got the Trace on me, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go."_

The light rose back up around them and they Apparated again, it was so strange watching themselves twist and stretch around them, and landed on the square at Grimmauld Place. They could all see number twelve and as the memory started toward the house the memory grew dim and Hermione felt herself being pulled back up.

A moment later they were standing around the table all looking down at the Pensieve.

"Now that was something!" Parnell boomed with a smile. "Great! Anthony Dolohov and Thorfinn Rowle." He pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote the names down.

"Time of testimony: one hour and forty seven minutes. Memory of Harry Potter. This meeting is adjourned and the next meeting will be tomorrow at nine." Lenora reported, not looking up from her parchment.

Hermione looked around at Ron and Harry in astonishment.

"That's all?" asked Harry. "We're done for the day?"

"Well, yes. That is, Kingsley had asked you to stay. But," Lenora gathered her parchment and quill and stood from the table in the golden light, "yes, that is all for today! Thank you!" She levitated the Pensieve and left the room.

"Weird bird, she is. You'll get used to her. I worked with her once before on a few particularly remarkable raids - with your father in fact, Percy n' Ron. Muggle photographs were made into Memory Keepers, charmed to tell or keep secrets. Strange stuff, that was - kept talking to Muggles and making them think they were being driven loony." Parnell stood, he must have been right at Mr. Weasley's height - shorter than Ron but taller than Harry. "Well, 'til tomorrow then!" Parnell moved around the table shaking Harry's hand, then Ron's, then hers. "Nice to meet you all! Wife won't believe it!"

Then it was just Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Percy. Percy had taken out parchment and was jotting a few notes down.

"I thought that'd be harder, somehow," said Ron.

"Me too. Wonder what Kingsley wanted to speak to us about," Harry said, flatly.

"I figured it would be something about school or working with the Ministry over the next year," Hermione said. "Do you think we'll go back to Hogwarts?"

"I don't know..." Harry started but looked up at the fountain through the water above. "It'd be really different next year. We'd be in a different year - so many students died." Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know if I could go back - or if the castle would still feel the same. You know?"

She knew. She had thought a lot about what choice they would make and what made the most logical sense. It made the most sense, rationally, to apply for early graduation and take their NEWTS early, this summer. She knew Harry wouldn't have wanted to go back for a multitude of reasons. If Ron got offered early graduation, she knew he would seriously consider it. Would she want to go back without Ron? Without Harry too?

Kinglsey appeared on the other side of the glass door and swung it open, holding it while Ron, Harry, and she stood.

"Hope it went well!" Kingsley looked over them to Percy, who was still sitting at the table, "And you'll meet me in my office at four? Good. To the Leaky Caldron, we've got a lot to discuss."


	6. Diagon Alley and the Future

_. . . Chapter 6_

_. . . Diagon Alley and the Future . . . _

* * *

Ron followed Kingsley into the Leaky Caldron and held the door open for Hermione and Harry to pass through.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said as he passed over the threshold. Hermione just smiled up at him and brushed her hand against his side as she walked by.

A hush fell over the lunch crowd at the Caldron and Ron was glad when Kingsley moved over toward a more private table in the corner. Kingsley motioned for the three of them to sit so Ron scooted in one side of the bench and Hermione followed while Harry slid into the other side, followed by Kingsley.

"So! How'd it go this morning? Well?" Kingsley asked as he flagged down Tom at the bar. Ron was glad to see that Tom and the Leaky Caldron looked pretty much the same over all.

"It went well - shorter than I thought it'd be, though," answered Harry as he looked around the place. Ron noticed Harry stopped halfway through his survey of the restaurant and his eyes caught on something. Ron followed what he was looking at.

There, in the middle of the Leaky Caldron, posted on one of the stone columns along the side of the restaurant was a poster, Harry's poster. UNDESIRABLE No.1, with Harry's face staring back out at them. Before Ron could even say a word about how they should all be taken down, Hermione had jumped out of their bench and was striding over to the poster, hips swaying and her hair was bouncing -

In full view of the entire restaurant, Hermione viciously tore the poster away from the wall, balling it up in her hands as she turned to face the restaurant.

Ron looked around at the stunned crowd. Several people were smiling at her and some were nodding.

"Here, here! 'S about bloody time! Tom, ss-send 'em a round of some butterbeers on m'tab!" one particularly haggard looking wizard slurred from the bar.

When Hermione turned back to them she was grinning triumphantly at them and as she walked pulled out her wand and levitated the balled up poster and set it ablaze in the air. By the time she got back to the table the and took her seat beside Ron, a couple other people had gotten up out of their seats and they could hear the ripping down of what must have been other posters.

Harry was grinning at Hermione. "Bit dramatic, 'Mione?" he teased.

"Thought it was time for that to come down," she said, brushing her hair back off of her shoulders and tucked it behind so that it stayed behind her back. She propped her face up on her arm - her scars clearly visible. He wondered if she knew they were showing. Was she really this brave or was she distracted?

"Definitely," Kingsley said darkly. "I'll issue a decree first thing after I return." He cleared this throat. "The reason I wanted to speak with the three of you was to -"

Tom had come to the table with four butterbeers and menus which he passed out hastily and then turned quickly to get to the other patrons.

"Was to inquire as to what you would like to do for the next year? Well, that is, I would like to present you with options about what the next year could entail. Obviously, these meetings with the Reviewers will continue for several weeks or as long as it takes to fully flesh out the last year. After these meetings are concluded, there will be a task force, headed by Francis Parnell, made of Aurors who will continue the pursuit of the Death Eaters still at large. Harry, I know you have expressed interest in becoming an Auror - and Ron? You as well?"

He nodded dumbly and Harry spoke up, "Yes, sir."

"Well then I'd like to offer the two of you a...well a slightly unorthodox proposition. Due to the experience you have had in fighting the Dark Arts and the experience you will gain working as part of the Reviewers, I'd like to offer a position as Aurors in Training to both you, Harry and you, Ron and for that matter, Hermione - if it is your ambition to become an Auror -"

"Oh, it's not. Not really. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it so much as they -"

"Very well, then I'll have a separate offer for you in a moment. Harry, Ron: as Aurors in Training you will bypass the usual tests, though I'm sure you'd both pass dramatically, and will jump into the program and be assigned to a Senior Auror. Unless you object, typically we have one Auror in Training to each Senior Auror so you'll most likely be with different mentors. Or - you could both return to Hogwarts for the completion of your seven years there."

Ron and Harry made eye contact and Ron nodded and shrugged. Harry seemed excited. How could they not be ok with the new proposal? They'd be skipping out on a useless year of Hogwarts, NEWTS, Auror Entrance Examination, and would get to move straight into their careers.

"Please discuss it with each other and your families and I can wait upto two weeks for your responses," Kingsley said, looking at both Ron and Harry. "Now! Hermione! You're a little harder to place. After discussing your skills with Minerva, she and I have compiled a list of possible choices for you. You could return to Hogwarts as Head Girl for your final year ."

Ron's stomach sank at the same time he felt his heart burst with pride. Head Girl. She'd wanted it since first year whether she'd admit it or not but this would mean she'd probably want to go back.

"You could accept a position as an assistant to Minerva at Hogwarts, I believe Mr. Longbottom has chosen that path -"

Tom returned and took their orders and their menus and crept away through the crowd.

"And as I was saying, you would also do well in a position with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and could work under Mafalda Hopkirk in the Improper Use of Magic Office -"

Ron turned to grin at Hermione. 'Course she could work under Mafalda, she'd already know where her office was. He wiped the grin off quickly when he notice that she looked overwhelmed and more than a little sick.

"Finally, there is also a position available to you the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, working under Tarin LaFoe. As with Ron and Harry, I'd expect a response in two weeks. Please take the time to consider all of your options fully."

Hermione nodded mutely beside him.

"Excellent," Kingsley said, a smile returning to his face. "Well you'll all be glad to hear that the meeting went well with Minerva, rebuilding is going well. Turns out those suits of armor that helped in the battle can do more than fight - Minerva said they've been dead useful since the battle and your friend Grawp has been doing most of the heavy lifting."

"So it will reopen on time then?" Harry asked as he picked up his butterbeer.

"Oh, definitely. Might still need a little extra care but it will be ready come September."

"What about the houses, then? Sorting?" Harry asked.

Ron looked at Harry. The sorting?

"Still going to be sorted, although, Minerva said that class structures will change. All houses will attend classes together, mixed in and not always with the rest of their year. So now, where you had Potions with Ravenclaw or whichever house now you will have Potions with some students from all houses and not necessarily all the students in your house year. Understand?"

"Why's that?" Ron asked. Why was there any major change like that to classes?

"Well, the Ministry and Hogwarts have had several meetings together to discuss a way to stitch together the houses. It was...dramatic, the schism last year, to say the least," Kingsley finished.

Tom returned with their food and left the tray for them to pass around. Ron looked around - the lunch crowd had grown dramatically - several people were looking back at his and their table. Oh, right.

Hermione was being oddly quiet beside him and he nudged her right leg with his left under the table. She looked up at him but shook her head instead of saying anything and stared down at her hands. She was rubbing her right thumb roughly along the top of every nail of her left hand - a nervous habit she'd always had. Would've been nice to get a smile out of that. She must be trying to decide how to tell them she wanted to back to Hogwarts even though they didn't want to. The year apart - he couldn't even think about it - he shoved a piece of the fried fish on his plate into his mouth.

The rest of the meal passed quickly enough and the four of them returned by Floo to the ministry. Kingsley had asked them to visit the Department of Magical Transportation and request Floo passes for the ministry from the Burrow so that they could keep from taking the guest entrance for the following meetings. They visited the office where Ron spoke at length with Madam Edgecombe, head of Floo Regulation, and finally they went to dad's office - he'd been reinstated in the days following the battle - at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office.

"Ron!" Ron turned around to see his father carrying what looked like a black brick with a short black wand on top and buttons on its side. The brick was screeching in this horrible, high pitched ringing, Ron took a step back. Obviously cursed. "Oh your mother and Ginny are headed here to meet you. You're already out and about so they were thinking about accompanying you two or Hermione to get dress robes. That alright?" asked his dad.

"Yeah, alright," Ron answered as he looked at Harry who nodded.

"Hermione?" dad asked her.

"That'd be fine, I was going to go into some Muggle shops in London, though..." Hermione tapered off. She didn't seem excited about the prospect of going anywhere.

"I'll send Molly and Ginny with you then - safety and all that. Boy's? You'll take care, hm?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley."

Ron looked over at Hermione while the three of them sat and waited on mum and Ginny.

"Muggle shops?" Ron asked.

"Oh, um yes. That's where I got my dress for the Yule Ball and for Bill and Fleur's wedding so I thought I'd go there," Hermione said, tugging on the bottom of her shirt. "Honestly," she lowered her voice so only Ron and Harry would hear, "people are staring at us."

Ron looked around, there were people staring and one badly complected bugger with a camera, and looked back at her. Then she sat back against the plush chartreuse chair looking uncomfortable.

"It's fine, Hermione! And just think -" Harry was cut off by mum's call.

"Ronald! Harry! Hermione!" she hugged them all in turn. "Where's Arthur? I'll need to speak to him quickly," mum shuffled off.

"Hey," Ginny said, meeting Harry's eyes. "How'd it go?"

"Good but short. Or, good and short, I guess," Harry smiled at her.

"Hermione?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah, good," Hermione said, distractedly.

Mum bustled back to them. "Arthur says Ron and Harry are to go to Madam Malkins and Hermione, we're going into Muggle London?"

"Oh, um, only if you want Mrs. Weasley..."

"Of course, dear. You boys, take care of each other and stop by and see after George won't you?" mum asked as she scurried off with Hermione and Ginny.

"Blimey, she's in a hurry, yeah?" he asked Harry as the two of them headed toward the elevator to head to the lobby and Floo to Madam Malkins.

"Yeah," Harry answered and smiled.

Harry stopped short. "Ron do you have any money?"

"Oh blast, no. We'll stop by Gring-"

"Bloody hell, Ron."

"We're buggered now," he said to Harry.

"We'll have to go," Harry said grimly as they stepped into the elevator. "Think Griphook will be glad to see us?"

The long walk down Diagon Alley to Gringotts showed some signs of life. Ollivander's looked to be reopened but there was a middle-aged looking witch helping a customer when they peaked in the window from the street. Fortescue's sign had been taken down and a witch in blinding, sparkling silver robes was raising a sign that read "Gwendoloena's Grand Glamours". Scribbulus Writing Instruments looked reopened as well, Quinn Nalty with his trademark, traditional wizard's hat with the quills sticking out of it at every angle was standing at his window and looking at the passersby.

"Most everything looks like it's coming back," Ron said to Harry as they kept walking toward what was sure to be the most awkward trip to the bank in the history of trips to the bank.

"Yeah except Flourish and Blotts," Harry said, "Look."

Ron turned and looked Harry's direction. All the windows of Flourish and Blotts were boarded with a sign that read "Closed Until Further Notice."

"I heard that the Ministry, sometime these last few months, went through and 'cleaned' out the material they didn't find appropriate for Hogwarts age students," Ron said. He'd heard something about that on the radio while he'd been at Shell Cottage when he really should have been with Harry and Hermione. Still wanted to punch himself every time he thought about it...

"Umbridge," speculated Harry.

Then suddenly they were at the steps of Gringotts. Ron had stopped short and looked up at the columns in front of him. Bloody hell.

Harry had started up the stairs and Ron followed through the heavy front doors. The lobby looked fine but as they approached the line of goblins, Ron noticed more than a few were looking their way. Bloody hell, could he just melt into the floor and ooze back out into the alley - send mum after some money?

"Mr. Potter," a familiar, sneering voice rang out. Everyone else in the lobby was staring now - maybe they should have worn disguises again. "Mr. Weasley."

Griphook was staring them down from his high chair.

"You two did it then? Stole it back from me, somehow," Griphook accused.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, confused.

"The sword! I woke up the next morning after your little stunt with our dragon and my sword was gone. You stole it back," he spit out.

This goblin was delusional. 'Course the sword was still there - who could have stolen it? The creature probably slept with it.

"The Sorting Hat," Harry said quietly beside him.

"What?" asked Ron.

"The Sorting Hat gave Neville the sword on the night of the battle," Harry said and looked up at Griphook. "It belongs to Hogwarts but it was our full intention to leave it with you."

Ron noticed a crowd of goblins standing behind them and tugged on Harry's sleeve. Did goblins attack in herds? Groups? Gaggles? Gaggles sounded right.

Griphook was staring them down coldly. "What do you need?"

He didn't sound to happy about it though so Ron said quickly, "25 Galleons."

Harry looked around at Ron, looking puzzled.

"New dress robes are usually around 20 Galleons but -" Ron finished with a shrug.

"Ok, 25 Galleons for me too."

"Fine," Griphook said, "thanks to the visit you last paid here the track is ruined. I'll go with Karnesh and we will visit your vaults and bring back your money. You wait here." Griphook hopped down from his seat and emerged, clicking his fingers for who Ron guessed was Karnesh.

The goblins behind them were watching the two of them like maybe they would produce another dragon to ride around the place. He had never wished for his Patronus to be a dragon more than he did right then. Surely they understood the 'why' behind the visit, erm break in, and the Ministry was funding the rebuilding, judging from the poster with Kingsley's image explaining the temporary operating procedures to the patrons. What did they have to be so gaggly about?

Finally, Griphook appeared sullenly and handed a bag of coins to each Ron and Harry.

"Now get out and tell that headmistress at your school that I'll be writing her a letter and that that sword is my sword," Griphook spat.

Harry and Ron turned to get back into the alley as the goblins backed away from them and moved back to their regular stations, Ron presumed.

"Sheesh, that was tense," Ron said, walking down the stairs behind Harry.

"Ha, yeah. Let's hope there aren't any surly goblins at Madam Malkins."

A minute later, Ron pushed open the door to Madam Malkins and the bell announced their arrival into the shop.

"Just a moment! Oh, Calioda, will you see after them? I'll be done in a jiff with this fitting," Madam Malkin called out from behind the fitting room curtain.

A brunette girl, probably a few years older than Percy, came out from behind the gray curtain.

"Hi! I'm Calioda, what do you need? Oh! You're Harry Potter and Ron Weasley! I'm, wow...I'm, OH! Oh, I'm so sorry. What do you need?" she asked them trying to regroup and act professional. Getting recognized by people wasn't so bad.

"Oh, we both need new dress robes - " Harry began.

"I see, and what about color? Modern versus traditional? New hats as well?"

Harry looked at Ron, "Black, modern, no hats." Ron nodded back at him.

"Very well, come to this rack," she said over her shoulder as she started toward the dress robes. She turned back toward them. "Stand up straight, arms out."

Ron and Harry obeyed.

"Ok you're Oliver's height so he's a J and you'll be a J and you're tall so you'll be a C?" she was pulling dress robes off of the shelf.

"Oliver?" Harry asked, eyebrows raised.

"Hm?" she handed them their dress robes to try on. "Oh, Oliver, my cousin," she blushed as she looked at Harry. "Plays for Puddlemere United, just in here a few days ago. It's easier for me to guess people off of people I know - still new to fittings and sizing and all," she finished brightly.

"Oliver Wood?" Harry asked her.

"Yeah, oh I forgot you're Gryffindors about his age! You'd know him. Yes," Calioda said, "I'm Calioda Wood, dad's are brothers."

She ushered them into two fitting rooms.

Ron heard Harry's muffled voice and Calioda's speaking through the curtain the whole time he tried his robes on. Apparently Oliver was playing for Puddlemere United and was seriously a witch named Rosemary. That was a nice name, he thought as he stepped out and stood in front of the mirrors in the shop.

"Oh, you'll have to wait on Madam Malkin, she does the best fittings," she told Ron.

In a moment, Harry stepped out from behind his curtain and Madam Malkin came around the mirror.

"Ready! Ok we'll mark these and get these back to you by - today is Monday so - Wednesday? You'll pick them up?" Madam Malkin asked as she quickly pinned and used chalk to mark the robes.

"Yeah we will."

"Great! Good. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. Thank you and you can change and leave the robes in your rooms. You'll pay when you pick up!"

"Uh, we could have waited on Gringotts, sent someone else and not had to see sulky and hear about his sword," Ron groaned to Harry as they walked back to the fitting rooms.

Harry just laughed and went back in his dressing room. A few minutes later Ron and Harry stepped outside, dusk had arrived, and went to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

They stepped in the door and were hit with a wave of noises: pings and pongs and screeches. Lee Jordan saw them come in and moved to greet them. "Ah! Nice to see ya both. Take a look around!"

"George here?" he asked Lee.

"Oh," a look crossed Lee's face. "He's in the stockroom. He hasn't been up on the floor too much for the last few days so I've been... you know."

"Oh, well we should say hi to him then, yeah?" he started to walk around Lee but Lee grabbed his arm.

"I wouldn't, Bill and Charlie both stopped by and pestered him today. Tomorrow maybe?"

"Mum will kill us if we don't invite him to dinner at the Burrow." Ron said, looking seriously at Lee.

"Ha! Yeah, Bill and Charlie already invited him. Well, guilted him into it really. I think he's going because he's under the impression your mum is bankrupting your family buying all the ingredients and making pies. She's sent us five in the last two days," Lee half laughed as he patted his belly.

Harry was looking at the tiny fireworks suspended in the air above the shelves of the shop.

"Yeah, alright. Tomorrow, we'll stop by. Maybe lunch at Swelp's Soups and Sandwiches?"

"Sounds great," Lee said and smiled.

Ron and Harry turned to leave the shop and Ron sighed deeply in the alley and the growing darkness outside. Harry clapped him on the back.

"He'll come out alright," Harry said, "let's get back to the Burrow."

They Disapparated and saw Hermione and mum standing side by side, talking and smiling in the kitchen window as they walked up to the house. Ron's heart swelled. He smiled and stepped up the door to the house.


	7. Nightmares and Firewhiskey

_. . . Chapter 7_

_. . . Nightmares and Firewhiskey . . . _

* * *

_She sat up, in the middle of a clearing full of fallen, vividly colored leaves. She was near some water and to her right was a steep wooded slope - she had been here before for something. . . The sky above was light pink like the dawn. She stood up and the crunch of the fall leaves under her feet unnerved her. With every step she looked behind her to make sure no one was behind her. Her stomach sank with recognition - where Ron had left her . . ._

_Whispers flew in with the wind and it started to rain musically on the leaves. She reached for her wand to cast a charm, Impervius was a necessity, but she realized that she didn't have it on her. Maybe it was in her beaded bag...it was gone too. She was unarmed. She tried to call out for Ron and Harry but her voice caught in her throat, she was silent._

_A rumbling growl sounded from behind her._

_"Oh, pretty is all alone. No ginger, no Potter to protect her. We'll finally get our turns Scabior!"_

_Greyback was running at her full speed ahead when she turned around to his voice and he pounced on her, his teeth grew huge in her view and he ripped her shirt off of her with his massive, hairy hands. She was trying to scream but couldn't make a sound. He roughly grabbed her hair and started pulling her toward the woods -_

* * *

Hermione sat up, drenched in sweat, with her heart pounding, shaking, and grabbed her wand from the small side table with a flourish. She frantically lit up the room with a wordless spell and looked around. Ginny's room. Ginny breathed lightly in the moonlight under her white comforter. Her hair was spread out like a flame on the pillow. Trembling, Hermione wiped the beaded sweat off of her face and collar with a trembling hand and swung her feet over the edge of the bed unsteadily. What was today? It was past midnight and so now it was . . .Tuesday, well, Tuesday morning.

Her feet hit the threadbare floral rug on the wood floor and she wiped her eyes roughly and moved silently from the room. Walking down the stairs carefully, Hermione realized she had to calm down and have a cup of tea or a glass of water or something. As Hermione got closer to the kitchen, she heard a muffled noise in the living room. Her heart started racing - it had to be about two in the morning.

She let her wand go dark and peeked around the wall with her heart beating a panicked tattoo against her ribs. George stumbled and walked around in disjointed circles in the living room. She stepped back into the hall and put her back against the wall and let out a breath to slow her mind. She tugged her tank top down to cover the sliver of skin at her hips and her shorts down a little too to make them longer. She didn't want to surprise or scare him or anything and so decided it was best announce her presence.

She coughed and waited a second before she walked into the living room.

"Hermy...what's...what're you doin' awake?" George grinned at her and staggered toward her.

"Just coming down for some water," Hermione said. Hermy? Really? Have I sunk from 'Mione to Hermy, she wondered as she scowled.

"YouwantsomeFirewhisssey?" he slurred, offering her his mostly empty bottle.

"No," she said uneasily, backing away from the overpowering and acrid smell of the alcohol. "Just some water and maybe a little snack, you want something?" She started toward the kitchen. The back of her neck tingled uncomfortably: paranoia at turning her back to anyone was an unfortunate door prize from the last year.

"No. You sit with me or no . . . I'll sit with you. . .You snacks and I'll bring drink," George picked up the bottle and noisily followed Hermione into the kitchen and sat at the long table. "So, Hermy? You and Ronnie, eh?"

She didn't turn around as she filled the tea kettle with water, using her wrist to swirl the water around the base of the kettle. "Hm," she responded. Good, she thought to herself, non committal so Ron wouldn't get teased but George could interpret that however he saw fit.

"Tats...that's good. He'll need a good snog - loosen him up. You too, Hermy," George managed to get out a fairly coherent set of sentences.

"Hey!" She didn't like where this conversation was headed, whether a grieving brother was drunk or not, and shot him a withering look over her shoulder.

"Touchy touchy, Hermy. Not gonna ask me how I'm doing? How's the shop? Pester me relentlessly like ereone else?"

She put the kettle on and turned to face him, giving him a sad smile. "No, _Georgie_. I think I can pretty well guess how you're doing. I'm making extra tea for you."

"Daww that's sweet. Do you...Do you know what I'm working on in tha shop?" George asked and looked up at her. "Aw you'll never guess it - Harry Potter Glasses. Picture it, yeah? You buy the glasses, when you put them on then everyone looks like Harry Potter. Gonna be a best seller that is."

"George! That's horrid! How scary!" Horrifying images of women forcing significant others to wear the glasses in intimate situations, of everyone walking through Diagon Alley wearing Harry's glasses, of the number of ways the glasses could be misused shot through her brain in a split second.

"No no no, not like that," George answered, obviously sober enough to read facial expressions of abject horror. "Not _just _like Harry, can't have everyone looking as dull and boring as the Chosen One. No it'd be like...like you're your height and size but your face is just sorta _like_ Harry's and you're wearing like his quidditch uniform! Brilliant!" George was talking excitedly. "We have a lissst of erething we want to try and this, this idea s'a winner."

She didn't want to upset him but she would have to have a talk with someone who could talk some reasoning into him tomorrow. It was absolutely ghoulish to think you could slip on a pair of glasses and be looking at Harry everywhere. "Brilliant it is," she lied through her teeth. Absently, she wondered if Harry and Ron would notice her lie. Probably so, after all these years in almost constant presense. She picked up one of the many of Mrs. Weasley's pastries on the counter and handed it to George. "Here," she commanded. "Eat this or you're going to lose your dinner."

"Bah, dinner was. . . Coming back is. . ." George stopped short when Hermione could tell he was about to actually discuss something important and took a swig, "but you're here and Harry's here. We taking in a new one every year or so. Harry. Fleur. You. Gonna be a thousand Weasleys in about two years. Gonna live here forever?"

The kettle started to whistle and she jumped to get it. She poured a cup for each of them but George made a face at his. Sitting here with George like this wasn't exactly what she had planned when she'd slunk down the stairs but now she couldn't very well leave him. And George's comment was still ringing in her ears. Was she going to live here forever? Should she be looking at somewhere else to live? Was it ok that she was here? Was she wearing her welcome thin?

"Back to the living room?" Hermione asked when she noticed him swaying ominously on the seat of his chair.

"Yess. Sofas not these chairs," George said as he stood up shakily.

Hermione set her tea down and reached out, helping George avoid obstacles like the door frame and the ottomans in the floor and got him safely to the biggest sofa in the room. She went back and grabbed her tea and came into the living room, sitting in the middle of the maroon love seat.

"S'all anyone can talk about you know? Fred," George met her eyes significantly. "And mum. . .she's makin' food all'la time. Bill's always around n' checkin up on me 'most every day. S'about all I can take. . . . So I went back to the apartment after dinner, yeah? Lees sleeping on our couch. S'just sad - should be using Freds room - s'a good room, you know? And then I see this botottle. Bottle," he stopped to wave the bottle around after he'd corrected his pronunciation. "n' I think. 'Yeah, tha's looking very friendly to me' and so then I think 'If I drink with Lee, he's gonna talk about Freds'so I Apparated here at like a couple hours ago and this good ole empty living room and I have been here ever since."

Hermione listened to him and hoped she was making a completely blank face, trying to tuck her feelings behind a mask. Her mind was reeling. George hadn't talked this much since before the battle. He hadn't said Fred's name yet to her knowledge. The only thing she could thing was to try to get him to go to sleep so that Mrs. Weasley didn't come down and find George like this. The last thing Mrs. Weasley needed was more heartache and worry after all of this.

She stood up off of the love seat and picked up a pillow and a blanket.

"George, lay down. Here, take this pillow," she said, stuffing it under his head before he could respond.

"But I'm na' done. I still have about a third of the bottle left to go." His words declined but he snuggled deeper into the cushions on the couch.

"_Abeoagua_," she whispered and pointed her wand at his bottle of firewhiskey, turning it into water. Hopefully he was drunk enough that the change wouldn't be noticeable. She watched with satisfaction when he drank it and didn't look up at her with an expression of betrayal. He lay back again on the pillow but didn't take the blanket.

Hermione sat back down on the loveseat.

"Those glasses?" George looked at her, well kind of all around her - his eyes were unfocused. "I gotta prototype." George pulled out a pair of glasses that looked just like Harry's and handed them to her. "Puttem on, Herm."

Herm. Hermy was worse, she decided. Hermione eyed the glasses skeptically and put them on only to appease George. She looked back at him but it was a taller, drunk Harry with a pronounced red twinge to his hair and freckles looking back at her and smiling. She laughed loudly.

"These are so crazy! What do I look like?" she asked rhetorically and jumped up and turned toward the mirror.

She checked her reflection, she was wearing Harry's quidditch robes, Harry had long brown hair and looked weirdly, awfully effeminate and much smaller. She laughed and admired herself. It wasn't as realistic as she had been worried it would be. She was done picturing all the horrible and completely inappropriate ways that these would be used. These weren't bad. She took them off and walked over to George.

"I like them, very clever charm," she complimented and saw his grin widen.

"Did Hermione Granger just call me clever? Imma remember that, Hermy," he yawned.

She went back to the love seat and laid on her side and sipped her tea carefully in the reclined position. If she did move somewhere else, where would she live? She couldn't live at her old house, not after what had happened there. The thought made her throat feel think and she reached down absently to scratch her fingernails over the slur on her arm. Harry was so at home here - he wouldn't want to leave would he? After a long lull of thought-filled silence, she looked back at George who was passed out, snuggling with his bottle of what was now water, mouth wide open at the ceiling. Hermione set her mug down. If he woke up, she didn't want to not be there in case he got sick. She got comfortable on the love seat and tried to go back to sleep.

After a few minutes of listening to the clock's light tick tock, Hermione fell into a light but graciously Greyback-free sleep.


	8. Short Shorts and Dumbledore

_. . . Chapter 8 _

_. . . Short Shorts and Dumbledore . . ._

* * *

Ron woke up to Harry muttering something about socks.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked sleepily.

"Socks. Socks and he won't give them back."

Ron rubbed his eyes and looked over at Harry. The nutter was still asleep.

"Oi," Ron threw a pillow at Harry's head, "wake up. S'morning."

"Heeeeyyy," Harry said groggily, pushing the pillow off and onto the floor.

Ron stood up and stretched, walking over to put on a shirt with his pajama pants. He picked up his watch off of his night table and looked at the time: 6:34am. Early. They wouldn't have to leave for the ministry for another two hours. He stretched and kicked Harry's cot lightly on the way out of the room to wake his arse up.

"I'm going, I'm going." Ron heard him say as he headed down the stairs. At the first landing, he saw mum standing frozen at the doorway of the living room. She looked up at him descending the stairs and put her finger to her lips. As he got closer he realized she had tears in her eyes.

"Mum, what's wrong?" he whispered.

"George must've come back. Hermione's down here too and Ron - oh,_ Ron_ - her poor arm. We saw it yesterday with the dress shopping and I asked her about it, said she didn't want to talk about it," mum wiped her tears away with short fingers. "She's been tortured, Ron," she whispered significantly to him, letting tears fall.

Ron looked over his mother's head and saw George on the yellow couch, stretched out and drooling on one of the maroon pillows. Crookshanks was asleep on George's pillow with his tail curled around the top of George's head. Hermione was asleep on her back with her arms flung up above her head. She looked so peaceful except for those angry marks on her left arm. Every time he saw them, Ron felt so sick and angry. Thank Merlin that his mum had killed that bitch at the battle of Hogwarts. He hoped that every single moment of Bellatrix Lestrange's afterlife was pure hell.

"You knew?" mum asked, turning to look back into the room at Hermione. He nodded, keeping his eyes trained on her sleeping form.

Hermione stirred on the loveseat and twisted her body around so that she moved to her side, facing them. Her shirt wasn't made of very much fabric, Ron noticed with a sudden clarity. Blimey she was beautiful, he hadn't seen her sleep since they had been at Shell Cottage and there was nothing restful looking about those first few nights after they had been captive at the manor. Now she looked peaceful, curvy with the way she was laying on her side, and completely distracting with all that skin on her shoulders and legs -

"Let's go make breakfast. You'll help?" mum's teary voice shook him out of his appreciation of Hermione's skin.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'll help," he agreed quickly, trying to cover the fact that he'd been ogling his - _girlfriend? friend? Maybe-a-girlfriend-soon? _- in front of his mum.

He followed his mum silently into the kitchen and grabbed the tea kettle off of the stove to fill it.

"Ronald," mum started. Bloody hell, here we go. "I've tried to stay out of your business and much as possible about this last year because I know it was what you three thought you had to do but Hermione has been tortured, all three of you look like you were starving so I've been making this mountain of desserts . . ." she motioned over her shoulder to all the desserts on the counter and turned to inflict her watery glare on him. "Who did that to her? She wouldn't tell us but now that I know that you know - "

"Morning," Harry appeared in the doorway, just in time.

Ron put the tea on the stove and elbowed Harry and quickly left the room. He could feel his mum's eyes boring a hole in his back as he slipped out of the kitchen like a kid avoiding a walloping. His ears colored in shame, here he was adult and all and couldn't even face a questioning from his mum.

"What is it?" Harry asked as they went into the living room. "What's she doing down here?" he asked when he saw Hermione.

Ron shrugged and walked over to Hermione, she was breathing in really quick and shallow breaths. Ron found himself distracted by the way her chest rose and fell, her tank top was lower than most of the necklines she normally wore. Ron reached out and gently touched Hermione's shoulder to wake her up. Her skin was so smooth -

In one blink Hermione had woken up, grabbed her wand, stood up and cast a shield between herself and the rest of the room. He and Harry were pushed back from the force of the spell and Ron stepped back further, hands up, feeling stunned and guilty. Her eyes and hair were wild as she looked around the room for anything unfriendly.

"'Mione? I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you. It's morning," he said unnecessarily. Light streamed in the window beside the couch. "We're gonna have breakfast, get ready, and Floo in today for the Ministry, yeah?" She didn't move from her defensive stance at first. "Ok?" He gulped, guilty in the face of her fearful awakening.

She lowered her shield and took a couple steps toward Ron and Harry who moved forward toward them slightly.

"No, it's - it's ok. I just...last night, had a few - so I came down here and he," Hermione yawned silently, "he was down here."  
Well that explained one thing at least.

Hermione blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and stretched her arms up at the ceiling, rising up on her toes. The way she was stretching gave Ron a really nice view of her typically hidden curves and he caught himself gaping when she looked back up at him. She blushed crimson and muttered something about a shower and went quickly out of the room. Those shorts were fantastically short. That girl was gonna end him completely.

After Ron had very reluctantly gone back to help his mum with breakfast, it had been decided - after Hermione told Ron and Harry about the amount of alcohol involved with the night before - that George would continue to sleep. Mum grabbed a Ministry owl that flew in with a message for dad and sent a package of pastys to Lee. Ron decided immediately as Hermione told them about the Firewhiskey that he'd - or Bill, or Charlie - have to talk with George about it if it every happened again. Finally, the three and Mr. Weasley went into the living room and Flooed into the grand fireplaces in the Ministry.

It was nice to see the Ministry the way he remembered it from when he was younger, before fifth year even, looking busy but polished with busy, polished people everywhere. The second Harry had come through the fireplace, the lobby full of people had started to roar and Ron put his arm around Hermione trying to protect her from the people that were pressing in. This time, they had been ready for them. Cameras flashed in every direction and Ron felt Hermione snake an arm around his waist and grab his side nearest Harry.

Dad was saying something behind Ron but Ron didn't want to turn around, they had to get to those blasted elevators through this bloody annoying crowd. Ron realized that it wouldn't have annoyed him so much if he hadn't felt like each one reaching out might have been a threat to him or Hermione or Harry. They were all jumpy after the last year, he thought wryly, remembering Hermione expression as she startled awake that morning. They finally got to the elevator and Mr. Weasley said he'd catch a different one.

Hermione reached out and pushed an unmarked button.

"Hey, how do you know which one to push?" Harry asked.

"I paid attention yesterday," Hermione said, shortly. Ron noticed she was wearing long sleeves sadly. He wished she felt comfortable enough to not hide it. He wondered absently if she ever would. "And I've been thinking," she said as the elevator lurched to a stop. "We should have started with Dumbledore and the ring, Harry."

Ron stared at her. Of course they should've, why hadn't they done that? Percy had suggested -

"Yeah, I was thinking the same. I can give testimony about the ring and I figure I can give testimony about the cave, since it wasn't the real horcrux we shouldn't have to revisit it or, or that night and then we'll restart at Grimmauld Place and go into RAB and how Lupin came and gave us information."

Ron immediately remembered what a complete horse's ass Harry had been to Lupin and started to say something about just giving verbal testimony but Harry caught his eye before he could speak.

"I'm not going to give them the memory. The three of us can just tell them what he told us," finished Harry as he opened the large glass doors.

Lenora and Percy were already there. Ron glanced at his watch, five minutes til nine.

Ron watched Hermione take the same seat she'd been in yesterday so he sat beside her. These chairs were bleeding uncomfortable.

"How was your meeting with Kingsley?" Percy asked from his seat across from Hermione.

"Good, we actually haven't gotten to talk about it much though," he looked at Hermione who was playing with one of her yellow sleeves.

"He said he made job offers."

"Yeah he did but, like I said, we haven't talked about it a whole lot yet," he bugged his eyes up so that Percy would know to shut it and then, when his eyes were a normal size again, cut his eyes down at Hermione so Percy would get the gist of what he was trying to say.

Percy looked back at Ron puzzled but thankfully let it drop and they sat in a long, still silence until Parnell's voice rang out from the hall.

"Yeah! Better you than me, Russell. Say hi to the wife, yeah? Oh, will do."

Parnell pushed through the doors and walked, rather like a monkey, to his seat. He was wearing the most ridiculous tie - might've been a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product - tiny fireworks were going off a couple centimeters off of the front tie. The golden light in the room muted the tie only slightly.

"Hi all. Good meeting yesterday and another good one today, yeah?" Parnell grinned at the table.

"Yes, we're all ready?" Lenora asked, expectantly.

"Yeah but we've talked and we might not have started at the exact beginning," Harry started but looked around at Ron and Hermione with an expression of marked discomfort.

"Well, we started where Ron and I really started but Harry and Dumbledore had already begun working toward this before Dumbledore died," explained Hermione.

"Very well, we will just start wherever and fill in the blanks," Lenora said, kindly. She wasn't a very pretty woman, she looked. . .fluid and smoky, like she had no bones at all. Her arms just sort of bent around when she moved. Creepy.

"Ok, well I'd prefer to just give testimony on the first part?"

When Lenora nodded, Harry started talking.

"During sixth year, Dumbledore and I started having more in depth meetings about Tom Riddle and about the extent to which he had gone to protect himself from dying." Harry stopped to clear his throat. "Dumbledore had a theory that Riddle had used Horcruxes to protect himself. Horcruxes are objects in which a person can split their soul, through murder, and then assign a piece of their soul to an object. This way, if a body is killed, the soul lives on and can be resurrected. That's really what this mission was that the three of us went on - hunt these down and destroy them and then go after Riddle."

Harry paused for a moment. Ron glanced around at the rapt faces that glowed gold in the room.

"When Dumbledore and I were in one meeting, and we had uncovered how many Horcruxes that were known to exist, he revealed that he had destroyed one - a stone in a ring - that had belonged to the Gaunt family."

Ron realized and looked at Hermione who nodded slightly to him. He knew instantly that the Hallows were to be left out of this discussion entirely.

"The Gaunt family were decedents of Salazar Slytherin. Tom Riddle's mother was Merope Gaunt. And Dumbledore knew I had destroyed another in second year - Tom Riddle's diary. This mean that two of the seven were gone but five were left. Of the five we knew that Riddle's part of his soul still in him was the seventh so we had to find four. On the night that Dumbledore died, we were going to find the third horcrux and - "

"And may we have that memory?" Lenora asked politely.

"Oh, um," Harry looked at his hands.

"For historical purposes, not to be passed around," Lenora pushed gently.

Harry sighed and shut his eyes, putting his wand to his head and dropping the copy of his memory for them all to see.

"Alright? All in?" Parnell asked.

Ron stood and everyone leaned in.

A moment later, all of the Reviewers were eerily floating above the water's surface as Harry and Dumbledore stood on a rock outcropping. Ron looked over at Harry, he and Hermione had heard about this night from Harry's perspective and that had been hard enough on Harry, rewatching this, knowing what comes next was going to tear Harry apart. They'd need a pick-me-up for sure after this.

_"They brought the kids from the orphanage here?"_

_"Not here, precisely. There is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe the orphans were taken there for a little sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only ever Tom Riddle and his youthful victims who visited this spot. No Muggle could reach this rock unless they were uncommonly good mountaineers, and boats cannot approach the cliffs, the waters around them are too dangerous. I imagine that Riddle climbed down; magic would have served better than ropes. And he brought two small children with him, probably for the pleasure of terrorizing them. I think the journey alone would have done it, don't you."_

Ron looked around and saw Hermione do the same. Harry's eyes were staring at Dumbledore's profile. The whole place felt evil, although, maybe it's because what - or who - he knew was once here.

_"But his final destination — and ours — lies a little farther on. Come."_

The invisible platform on which the Reviewers seemed to be standing descended with Harry and Dumbledore as they climbed

_"Lumos...You see...You will not object to getting a little wet?"_

_"No."_

_"Then take off your Invisibility Cloak — there is no need for it now — and let us take the plunge,"_

As a much younger looking Harry - this had been. . . Merlin's foot, only about a year ago. How many things had happened in just one year . . . - and Dumbledore swam in the water, all of the Reviewers seemed to sink into the water with them. Lenora shrieked and pulled her floating scroll of parchment up but Ron realized even though he was at waist-depth in the water that the water wasn't penetrating their clothes.

Parnell let out a booming laugh that echoed eerily in the memory and Ron turned to see even Harry and Hermione smiling. Hermione was dragging her fingers through the unmoved water and marveling at the sensation of them still being dry. It was like they were standing on a flat floor that was being pulled by Harry and Dumbledore into the cave.

When the cave tapered down to about three feet Ron gasped as he saw Percy's torso go straight through some rock and grabbed Hermione and put her in front of him, one of his hands on her waist, so he could watch for rocks. Deep down, he realized it didn't hurt Percy and wouldn't hurt any of them and that they were fine but it was the principle of the thing.

_"Yes, this is the place," Dumbledore said._

_"How can you tell."_

_"It has known magic . . . This is merely the antechamber, the entrance hall. We need to penetrate the inner place. . . . Now it is Lord Voldemort's obstacles that stand in our way, rather than those nature made. . . ."_

They all watched Dumbledore circle around and touch every surface in the cave until he found a spot.

_"Here. . . We go on through here. The entrance is concealed."_

A white outline of an arch shone brightly as Dumbledore pointed his want at a section of black rock.

_"You've d-done it!" _

As the outline faded, Ron looked at the younger Harry who was obviously shivering. He and Ron had never mastered the everyday, simple spells like the one he watched Dumbledore perform that dried off Harry's robes and clearly warmed him up. Hermione knew spells like that. Ron tightened his grip on her waist and slid his arm around her a bit more, he stopped before he could get to the middle of her stomach. He'd hate to push it too far, he didn't quite know where the boundaries were yet. . .

The Reviewers stood in silence and watched Dumbledore obviously working something magnificent out in his head for a few minutes.

_"Oh, surely not. So crude." _

_"What is it, Professor."_

_"I rather think, that we are required to make payment to pass." _

_"Payment?" said Harry. _

Ron knew this part, Harry had lamented it at the time, thinking that if Dumbledore had been uninjured from this "payment" and the potion that he could have fought off Snape. Instead, they knew now, that the way Dumbledore died had been his intention. He didn't know it was coming on this very evening, perhaps, but it was still one of his many, many plans.

He looked over at Percy. He used to be so jealous of Percy - prefect, Head Boy. He never actually finished Hogwarts . . . At least he'd never have such daft looking eyewear that he had to strut around in.

The wall opened into an archway after the payment had been received.

_"After me, I think." _

As Dumbledore and the younger Harry moved through the arch, Ron pulled Hermione closer. The invisible platform moved them through the arch and Ron noticed smugly that he, Hermione, and Lenora behind them were the only three to not have to travel creepily through the rock. Success.

Inside the cave was a huge black lake with an other-worldly green light shining and reflecting off of the water. It felt weird in there, like the air was pressing on his face.

_"Let us walk," said Dumbledore quietly. "Be very careful not to step into the water. Stay close to me." _

_"Professor, do you think the Horcrux is here?"_

_"Oh yes," said Dumbledore. "Yes, I'm sure it is. The question is, how do we get to it." _

_"We couldn't... we couldn't just try a Summoning Charm." _

Ron realized that the younger Harry looked really nervous.

_"Certainly we could," said Dumbledore, stopping. "Why don't you do it." _

_"Me. Oh . . . okay . . . Accio Horcrux!"_

At that moment, a whitish figure blasted up out of the water and splashed back down. The Inferi, Harry had told them. Ron stifled a shudder.

_"What was that?" Harry asked, horrified._

_"Something, I think, that is ready to respond should we attempt to seize the Horcrux."_

"Did you think that would happen, sir?"

_"I thought something would happen if we made an obvious attempt to get our hands on the Horcrux. That was a very good idea, Harry; much the simplest way of finding out what we are facing."_

_"But we don't know what the thing was," said Harry._

"What the things are, you mean," said Dumbledore. "I doubt very much that there is only one of them. Shall we walk on."

_"Professor - "_

_"Yes, Harry."_

_"Do you think we're going to have to go into the lake?"_

_"Into it. Only if we are very unfortunate." _

_"You don't think the Horcrux is at the bottom."_

_"Oh no ... I think the Horcrux is in the middle," Dumbledore said, pointing toward the green light._

_"So we're going to have to cross the lake to get to it." _

_"Yes, I think so."_

Hermione shifted against him, changing which foot she had put pressure on. His arm around her slid just a little and, as if she had realized it was there for the first time, reached around with her left arm and put her hand on top of his wrist. If they weren't in such a creepy place he would have turned her around and kissed her on the spot. It ached how. . . infrequent their physical contact was and how quickly he and Lavender had progressed into snogging around every corner. But this was Hermione and if he ever compared her - he shuddered to imagine the consequences of the hexes. He couldn't push her either. Not even two weeks had gone by, everything still felt so dreamlike and new.

What would he do next year if she did go back to Hogwarts? They hadn't gotten to talk about it yet with each other. Hermione had been helping his mum when they came in from Diagon Alley, then dinner, then dessert and listening to dad rattle off about the brick-thing Ron had seen - a mobile felytone...that wasn't right . . .a mobile telephone. Someone had hexed the thing and when Muggles used it to answer a - what did Harry call it. . .oh, a call - they were horrified to find that the wand on top transfigured into a hand and started dialing its own buttons. Then after dad's recounting of having to use memory charms on no less than six Muggles, Hermione had gone up to bed with Ginny. Then this morning and that tiny outfit, and breakfast -

Suddenly, Ron realized the invisible platform was moving again, being dragged along behind the boat Harry and Dumbledore rode in. After less than a minute Harry's voice broke the silence.

_"Professor!"_

_"Harry"_

_"I think I saw a hand in the water — a human hand!" _

_"Yes, I am sure you did."_

_"So that thing that jumped out of the water — There are bodies in here!"_

Harry's voice had jumped up to near where Hermione's was in pitch, Ron thought, but then immediately felt guilty, it was easy for him to think Harry's hysteria was funny: they knew he got out ok, knew what to expect because it'd already happened.

_"Yes, but we do not need to worry about them at the moment."_

_"At the moment?"_

_"Not while they are merely drifting peacefully below us," said Dumbledore. "There is nothing to be feared from a body, Harry, any more than there is anything to be feared from the darkness. Lord Voldemort, who of course secretly fears both, disagrees. But once again he reveals his own lack of wisdom. It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."_

_"But one of them jumped. When I tried to Summon the Horcrux, a body leapt out of the lake." _

_"Yes," said Dumbledore. "I am sure that once we take the Horcrux, we shall find them less peaceable. However, like many creatures that dwell in cold and darkness, they fear light and warmth, which we shall therefore call to our aid should the need arise. Fire, Harry." _

_"Oh . . . right. . ."_

_"Nearly there."_

The invisible platform carrying the Reviewers over the flat surface of the water stopped and they watched Dumbledore and Harry climb out of the boat and onto the rock in the center of the lake. Percy was edging over toward Ron and Hermione, looking like he wanted to speak.

"Ron," Percy whispered. "I'm sure Harry stopped this memory before Dumbledore died but the Reviewers will need to watch that and see all the Death Eaters involved, yeah?"

Ron nodded, silently.

"You three won't have to watch that because the Ministry already has a file on his death and that night at Hogwarts," murmured Percy.

"Yeah, that's better," Ron said under his breath.

"Oh, and Harry's memory of destroying the first Horcrux, the diary?"

Ron looked at Percy.

"We'll need that too, most likely. It might be painful for Harry to revisit but we'd need that memory and him re-watching it with us will give him the chance to point out anything we might miss. Think he'll do that?" Percy asked softly.

"Yeah," Ron whispered, as he noticed Lenora looking at them with a scalding burn in her eyes, "We're about to be murdered, Perce."

Percy looked over at Lenora and quickly took a large step away from Ron.

_"- it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths."_

_"But what if— what if it kills you."_

_"Oh, I doubt that it would work like that. Lord Voldemort would not want to kill the person who reached this island." _

What? Voldemort was some cuddly pygmy puff now? Not kill the person? Right. He listened as Harry offered a rebuttal to Dumbledore's sunny view of Voldemort but then Dumbledore explained.

_"I'm sorry, Harry; I should have said, he would not want to immediately kill the person who reached this island. He would want to keep them alive long enough to find out how they managed to penetrate so far through his defenses and, most importantly of all, why they were so intent upon emptying the basin. Do not forget that Lord Voldemort believes that he alone knows about his Horcruxes...Undoubtedly, this potion must act in a way that will prevent me taking the Horcrux. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking, even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand."_

The Reviewers all seemed to edge closer during Dumbledore's monologue. Ron felt Parnell's beefy elbow against his arm and saw that Harry was the only one of the six that wasn't intently observing, well, himself at the moment.

_"You remember the condition on which I brought you with me."_

_"But what if—." _

_"You swore, did you not, to follow any command I gave you." _

_"Yes, but—" _

_"I warned you, did I not, that there might be danger."_

_"Yes, but —" _

_"Well, then, you have my orders."_

_"Why can't I drink the potion instead?" asked Harry as Dumbledore finished rolling up his sleeves._

_"Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable," said Dumbledore._

"Once and for all, Harry, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to make me keep drinking."

_"Couldn't — ." _

_"Do I have it."_

_"But—"_

_"Your word, Harry." _

_"I —all right, but—"_

The Reviewers watched Dumbledore fill the goblet with the liquid.

_"Your good health, Harry."_

Dumbledore leaned over the basin looking sick.

_"Professor, how do you feel?"_

How does he feel? Harry, look at the bloke. Not bloody good. Hermione's light resting of her hand on Ron's arm had started to become a painful grasp, her thumb nail was pressing against his inner wrist. He looked down at her - in the glowing, green light she looked fragile, like she didn't want to be here. Should she have stayed behind in the office at the Ministry? He didn't want to be the one that suggested she sit out on any of these, she'd hex him into eternity or worse get offended and stop this _thing_ that they had before it really started . . .

_"Professor, can you hear me."_

_"I don't want. . . Don't make me ... . . don't like . . . want to stop . . ." Dumbledore croaked out, seemingly afraid._

_"You . . . you can't stop, Professor," said Harry. "You've got to keep drinking, remember. You told me you had to keep drinking. Here . . ."_

Ron immediately saw why Harry had felt so guilty as he told them about this. He'd had to be the one that weakened Dumbledore. Everything was always on Dumbledore's orders - Harry weakening him, Snape carrying out his death, Harry getting close to Slughorn. Not in a bad way exactly, just in a highly controlled way, Ron decided.

_"Make it stop, make it stop," Dumbledore groaned after Harry had refilled the goblet again._

_Yes.. . yes, this'll make it stop."_

An ear piercing scream rang out and echoed over the water and rocks around the cave.

_"No, no, no, no, I can't, I can't, don't make me, I don't warn to. . . ." _

_"It's all right, Professor, it's all right!"_

Harry's hands were shaking so bad as he refilled it again. Ron glanced over at Harry who looked like he was being tortured, going through this again. They would definitely be getting butterbeers at lunch. At least butterbeers, preferably mead or something stronger, if Hermione wouldn't judge them drinking with lunch.

_"It's all my fault, all my fault. Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I'll never, never again ..." _

_"This will make it stop, Professor," Harry said, almost letting a sob break through._

Hermione was cutting off the circulation in his hand and probably scarring his wrist for life with her nail but he didn't have the heart to move her hand when she was obviously this upset.

_"Don't hurt them, don't hurt them, please, please, it's my fault, hurt me instead ..." _

_"Here, drink this, drink this, you'll be all right."_

_"Please, please, please, no ... not that, not that, I'll do anything ..."_

_"Just drink, Professor, just drink . . ."_

_"No more, please, no more ..."_

_"We're nearly there, Professor. Drink this, drink it. ..."_

_"I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!" _

_"Drink this, Professor. Drink this. . . ."_

Hermione moved her digging nail and hand away from Ron's, sweet relief flooded him until he saw that she was wiping her face with the hand she'd just moved. He moved his arm and put a hand on her shoulder.

_"KILL ME!"_

_"This — this one will!" gasped Harry. "Just drink this .. . It'll be over ... all over!" _

Dumbledore's breath rasped and he rolled over, his face on the rock.

_"No! No, no, you're not dead, you said it wasn't poison, wake up, wake up — Rennervate! "Rennervate — sir — please —"_

Ron watched Dumbledore's eyes flicker and saw that Hermione was looking over at Harry's face, shifting slightly to try to get his attention. Ron dragged his eyes back to the sight in front of them.

_"Water," croaked Dumbledore._

_"Water, yes —" Harry had leapt up and was trying to fill the goblet. "Aguamenti!" Harry took the goblet to Dumbledore but it had vanished. "But I had some — wait — Aguamenti!"_

Ron knew what was coming, Harry was going to make the impossible choice to use the water from the lake. Harry had seen Hermione and was scooting over toward them, not turning his back to Dumbledore and when he got to them Ron saw Hermione reach out a hand and take Harry's in hers. He swallowed back a stinging feeling.

He should never have said the things he had said and it was horrible that Harry had seen some of the things he always feared when he'd had to destroy the locket. How could he let go of that jealous feeling when it had been there for so long?

An Inferi was reaching up and holding the younger Harry's arm, pulling him down. All the white heads and arms started popping through the still surface were aimed at Harry.

_"Petrificus Totalus! Petrificus Totalus! Impedimenta! __Incarcerous! Sectumsempra! SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

Ron watched as Harry frantically tried the spells, none of which slowed down the horrific creatures. Then suddenly, Dumbledore was on his feet and was lassoing fire around Harry and himself, fending off the Inferi.

The invisible platform started to move with the boat as it journeyed to the other side of the lake.

_"Sir, sir, I forgot - about the fire - they were coming at me and I panicked. "_

_"Quite understandable."_

The group of them reached the bank behind Harry and Dumbledore and then the memory turned blank and Ron was pulled upwards and landed, staggering in the conference room.

"Tough old man, that Dumbledore," Parnell said, breaking the silence. "To go after the Death Eaters that were responsible for Dumbledore's death, Harry, may we have that memory as well?" Parnell glanced and Percy and Ron realized they had talked about this while he had been observing the memory.

Ron looked over at Harry who looked stunned and as Harry opened his mouth to say what Ron thought might be a 'No', Parnell spoke.

"Oh, Lenora, Percy, and I will watch that and the skirmish at Hogwarts that same night. You won't have to revisit it with us," Parnell said as softly as his usual vocal exuberance would allow.

Harry nodded and put his wand to his head for the second time that day and let it fall into the Pensieve.

"Well," Lenora said, sitting up straighter in her chair. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger. That'll be it for you all today. Meet tomorrow at nine?" Lenora asked, satisfied when all three of them nodded.

As they stepped out into the sun in Diagon Alley a few minutes later, Ron felt Harry relax a bit beside him and looked over at him.

"To Swelps then?" Ron asked.

"I'm not really hungry yet," Hermione said, "are there any shops you want to visit?"

"Magical Menagerie . . . Well, I know that none of them could replace her but I'd like a new owl," Harry said quietly.

Hermione smiled brightly and put an arm around Harry.

"I think that's a lovely idea! Female or male?"

"Female, she had a good temperament so I'll see how that goes, I guess," Harry said, brightening at the prospect of a new owl.

"Names in mind?" Hermione prompted. Ron eyed her hand wrapping around Harry's side warily.

"I'll have to see her and decide," Harry said.

As they stepped through the door of the Magical Menagerie, Ron looked around in disgust at the Puffskeins, Rumblans, Carloptus, Yanklems, and Streelers. Thank Merlin they could pick an owl and get out. When he was younger, Ginny would make them stay in here for hours, cooing over every Puffskein and remarking over the 'baby soft skin' of the Rumblans. While Harry looked at owls, Ron's eyes caught on a bin of rats - not bloody likely, could turn out to be a fifty year old man with a severely twitchy disposition. He felt a twinge or remorse for that thought, remembering how Wormtail had died.

After careful consideration of the owls, Harry picked one - a tawny female that he named Persephone.


	9. Living Arrangements and the Chamber

_. . . Chapter 9 _

_. . . Living Arrangements and the Chamber . . . _

* * *

After a lunch at Swelps with Lee Jordan - George had come into work had declined to actually meet them for lunch - she, Ron, and Harry had helped Mrs. Weasley with dinner and had stepped outside on one of the first clear, warm nights of summer.

The crickets chirped noisily at them under the navy sky as they walked across the grass toward the pond at the side of the house. Harry plopped to the ground and stretched out across the grass and Hermione looked down at him and folded her legs, sitting beside him. She heard Ron sigh and take his place beside her.

The serenade of the evening was relaxing and Hermione leaned back and lay on the cool grass and looked up at the pinpricked sky.

"I've been meaning to talk to you both about next year," she started. She felt her chest constrict painfully, hoping this went well. "You're not going back are you?"

Harry let out a deep breath and lay down beside her where their shoulders touched lightly.

"I don't think so," Harry said slowly, "it's such a good opportunity and, Hermione, it won't be the same. . ."

_It _was Hogwarts and she knew it wouldn't ever be the same for her either. She'd expected that and she thought she knew Ron's answer but she looked up at him sitting up on her left. He was studiously avoiding her eyes. Her heart thudded painfully, what if he did want to go back.

"Ron?"

He was fidgeting with the grass in front of his crossed legs, ripping up one poor blade at a time.

"I've thought about it. . . I've never been much for school and we would be straight into the program. I'd be barmy not to accept," he paused at length and cut his eyes at her, stopping his abuse of the grass. "You're going back aren't you?"

"I don't know. . ."

"What?" Ron asked.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Harry asked at the same time as Ron.

"I'm not sure I want to go back," Hermione said, staring upward as Harry sat up and looked down at her and Ron stared at her as well. "I don't think I want to go back. . . "

"But, Hermione, you're probably Head Girl! I thought - " Ron started and she felt like she had to cut him off before he talked her out of this.

"I know! I know that I would've been . . . I thought I'd feel really torn about it but. . . I just can't go back. . . I can't go back without you and with a totally different class. Do you know how lonely it would feel?" She paused, considering the silhouette of Ron's face. He was smiling slightly, biting his lip to keep from smiling. "And anyway, the idea of working with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is something I think I'd really enjoy . . ."

She could feel their eyes on her so she looked back up at Ron's pleased grin and Harry's shocked face.

"What do you think?" she asked them, looking back up at the starry sky.

"I'm just . . . who are you?" Ron asked, chuckling. "I'm bloody excited you'll be staying with us don't get me twisted but, blimey Hermione - Head Girl?"

She grinned. "I know. A part of me wants to try to get my NEWTS anyway, maybe by owl . . . Is that a terrible idea?"

"No," Harry spoke up. "McGonagall will probably jump at that and send you all your lessons, right?"

"Yeah and then you'd have your NEWTs and start your job at the Ministry when we do, yeah?" Ron added, happiness oozing from his voice.

She felt excitement bubbling up in her. She'd finish her education, surely McGonagall would work with her on that, and start working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Giddiness at having a path before her made her feel lighter than she had in ages.

"So we'll all start jobs with the Ministry? And we'll all be living together?" Ron had moved to lay beside her on the grass and had turned to look at her profile.

She turned and looked back at him, his face was lit from the yellowish glow of the windows from the house. She grinned.

"I guess so but. . . I had a question about living together. George said something that got me thinking, should. . .do I need to start looking for a place?" she asked, keeping her eyes on Ron's face.

The smile faded quickly off of Ron's face.

"No, this is your home and Harry's home too, right?" His voice was wounded. Her chest felt like she'd been hit. That wasn't what she meant at all. . .

"No, yes. I -" she was making a mess of this. "Yes it is - but Ron, we're grown and I was wondering if - your parents have been so wonderful to me but I think I'd like to look for a place of our own."

"Our?" Harry piped up from her other side.

"Yes, our! You didn't think I meant alone!" she asked, shocked, glancing from Harry back at Ron who she was pleased to see had regained the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"So we'll look for our own house?" he asked. "The three of us?"

"Like in the tent but with better beds, a better bath, and a better selection of edible goods," she said, light heartedly, glad they understood.

"Hermione, that'd be brilliant!" Ron said, propping himself up on one elbow.

"So we'd be out in our own little house, huh?" said Harry, smiling.

"Well, where then?" Ron asked, excitedly.

Hermione considered it for a moment, "Well, we're going to be visiting the Burrow often so do you want to start looking around here in Ottery St. Catchpole or villages around here in Devon?"

Ron beamed at her. "I love that idea, Hermione. Harry?" The way he said her name made her blush. The tone he used just for her always caught her off guard.

"Sounds perfect. We'll look this weekend if you both want," Harry agreed, settling in against the grass beside her.

Hermione let the happiness wash over her. She'd been worried Ron would wrongly interpret it as a snub to his family. Sometimes he was so irrationally sensitive. She loved the Weasleys and loved living with Ginny but Ginny's room was getting cramped and she didn't feel it was her place to ask for her own room. There hadn't been much fun about the last year but the three of them together on a few evenings in the tent had been almost enjoyable that she let herself daydream while the crickets celebrated with them.

"Dears? It's almost eleven. You'll catch cold out there! Up to bed, all of you, skip!" Mrs. Weasley commanded good naturedly.

Hermione realized how nice that just being together, the three of them, in peace was. All three of them stood up and walked through the kitchen door that Mrs. Weasley was holding open with a foot.

"'Night, Mrs. Weasley," she said to the shorter woman.

"Night, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, patting Hermione's cheek.

"G'night," Harry said behind her.

"Night, Harry, dear."

"G'night mum," she heard Ron say as she started up the stairs.

"Hermione," Ron whispered from behind her as she climbed the stairs.

She stopped and looked down at him from a few stairs above and he pointed at the landing behind her so she stepped up two more of the wooden steps backwards. He came to the landing silently and leaned down kissed her softly, putting his hands on her hips. He pushed his fingers against her curves and kissed her harder for just a moment. Her heart leapt and she felt it thud with the trill of the tender kiss. As he stepped back from her, his finger caught the edge of her shirt and grazed the sensitive skin just above the waistband of her pants. An electric shock ran through her and she gasped just as they heard Mrs. Weasley start up the stairs. By the time Mrs. Weasley rounded the corner, Ron had stepped into his bedroom from the landing. Looking after the direction he'd gone in, Hermione caught her breath and swallowed thickly.

Flushed, she went up to the next landing and into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, washed her face with water so cold it stung, and a minute later climbed into the bed across from Ginny's, excited to start the next chapter of her life and finding herself keyed up with every bit of it fresh and thrilling. It was starting to fall into place before her. . .

Hermione woke up the next morning to a sharp knock on Ginny's door.

"Hermione? Ready? Leaving in five," Mr. Weasley's voice floated through the door.

Hermione bounced out of bed, frantically undressing and redressing in the first clothes she saw - her grey corduroy pants and her purple stripped short sleeve top. Bugger, her scars would show. She ran to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, swiped on a bit of mascara, lip balm, and started down the stairs, pulling her hair up into a pony tail as she hurried down the stairs toward the living room where she saw Ron, Harry and Mr. Weasley waiting on her. She noticed Ron's eyes on her and felt butterflies jump to life in her stomach.

"Sorry," she said, breathlessly. "Late start."

Mr. Weasley just smiled and let her take the first handful of Floo Powder.

Hermione noticed, relieved, that there were fewer people and fewer cameras there today when she arrived on the black marble floor of the Ministry lobby. Old news already, she hoped. Heading toward the elevators and listening for Ron's and Harry's footfalls behind her, Hermione found they were soon back in Kingsley's gorgeous conference room. For one brief moment she wished she could live in it before shaking herself out of that daydream.

Percy was already there and he looked up from his parchment when he saw them walk in.

"Oh great! You're here. Harry, did Ron talk to you about the Chamber memory?" Percy asked.

Hermione looked around at Ron whose face had gone a warm shade of pink.

"Um," Harry looked around at Ron, "No, he didn't. What about?"

"Oh," Percy shot Ron a withering glare, "We'd like to possess the memory of the destruction of the first Horcrux for the records. The Chamber of Secrets," he clarified. "We'd understand if you were uncomfortable giving this memory or any other memory but, obviously, we'd appreciate having it in the Ministry's possession. . ." Percy trailed off looking at Harry.

Hermione looked at Harry as he was taking a seat at the table, her seat, blast it - she'd have to charm another. She saw the look of surprise cross his face as his rear met a cushiony surface instead of the hard surface he'd been expecting and she smiled in private amusement.

"Sure, that'd be fine. We'll review that today?" Harry asked.

"Yes, please," Percy said, visibly relaxing that Harry was willing. "I think that'd be a good next step. Lenora will be reordering these and establishing a timeline so the fact that we're out of order is fine but as long as we're thinking about this particular memory - might as well, yes?" Percy explained.

A moment later Parnell opened the doors, holding it open for Lenora and her enormous bag and the levitated Pensieve.

"Where are you taking that each time?" Harry asked Lenora. Hermione shot him a look. That level of informality was almost equal to addressing a professor by their last name. He didn't notice her reproachful gaze.

"Oh, a secure room in the Department of Mysteries," Lenora clarified. "Fewer people go in there because it is so unknown. Creeps some people out which works in our favor. You'd never believe some of the things down there." She smiled at Harry. Hermione watched the curious look on Harry's face fade and grow serious. They knew of the 'things down there' better than most people these days probably did.

When Parnell and Lenora had taken their seats, Percy nodded at Harry who stood and dropped in his memory from many years ago. Wordlessly, the whole group stood and Ron bumped against her side as they all leaned in.

The Reviewers were standing next to a tiny Ron and a tiny Harry outside of Lockhart's office. Hermione and the twelve year old Ron were almost eye-to-eye but Harry looked like he had been handed a shrinking potion. Hermione looked over at Harry and grinned. Harry was biting his lip, smiling, obviously as amused as she felt.

"We're babies!" Ron whispered, smiling. Hermione melted a little at the way his eyes were lit up and his smile was a little crooked.

How bizarre to see them as twelve and now Harry, seventeen and Ron, eighteen.

The door had opened in front of the smaller Harry and Ron and one eye peered out at them.

_"Oh - Mr. Potter - Mr. Weasley - I'm rather busy at the moment - if you would be quick -" Lockhart said, opening the door further._

_"Professor, we've got some information for you," said Harry. "We think it'll help you." _

_"Er - well - it's not terribly - I mean - well all right -" He opened the door and the smaller Harry and Ron walked into the room. _

_"Are you going somewhere?" _

_"Er, well, yes. Urgent call - unavoidable - got to go -"_

Hermione stared at her two friends and the professor she'd once had a crush on. Her face heated up with shame that she'd ever been impressed by this blithering idiot, this ridiculous excuse for a teacher. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to pay full attention to the scene at hand.

_"What about my sister?"_

_"Well, as to that - most unfortunate -"No one regrets more than I -" _

_"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" said Harry._

_"You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"_

_"Well - I must say - when I took the job -" Lockhart muttered, "nothing in the job description - didn't expect -" _

_"You mean you're running away. After all that stuff you did in your books -"_

_"Books can be misleading."_

_"You wrote them!"_

_"My dear boy, do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on -"_

_"So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?"_

_"Harry, Harry, it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog. . . Let's see, I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."_

Hermione gasped as Lockhart pulled his wand on Ron and Harry. Had they told her about this part? She suddenly found herself unable to remember them telling her of this part of the exchange.

_"Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book -"_

Thank the heavens that Harry's reaction time was faster than Lockhart's.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

_"Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one," Harry said._

Had that been Snape? How strange, and ironic - that spell, that one spell had become Harry's trademark and it was all thanks to Snape. Ironic, too, that it had been the spell that Hermione had used against Snape the very next year. She felt awful at her childish distrust of the man who turned out to be better than them all.

_"What d'you want me to do." said Lockhart. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do." _

_"You're in luck, we think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go."_

"Ballsy buggers! Second years?" Parnell tried to whisper to Percy and Percy nodded, glancing at Lenora, waiting to get reprimanded.

The Reviewers went along behind the younger Harry and Ron and Lockhart and into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"_Oh, it's you," she said in her whine. "What do you want this time?"_

_"To ask you how you died," said Harry._

_"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then - I died."_

_"How?"_

_"No idea," said Myrtle. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away . . . .And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."_

_"Where exactly did you see the eyes?"_

Hermione turned expectantly to the sink , knowing since she and Ron had come just a few weeks ago exactly where to look. Memories of the Chamber rendered Hermione momentarily breathless.

_"Somewhere there," Myrtle said, pointing._

The twelve year olds ran to the sink and Lockhart looked horrified. Harry and Ron looked over every inch of the sink and Hermione knew they would find the small snake scratched on a pipe.

_"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle._

"Harry, say something. Something in Parseltongue."

_"But -"_

_"Open up," Harry said._

"English," said Ron.

_"Hesshasaa," Harry hissed at the sink._

Hermione smiled, Ron had mimicked that sound successfully not yet two weeks ago. She looked around at Harry who looked stunned.

She whispered to him, "What is it?"

"Can't speak it anymore, I forgot. All I heard was hissing. . . " Harry didn't look upset, she noticed, just bewildered as he stared at his younger self declaring that he was going down in the chamber. Oh right, that part of his soul was gone. The thought wasn't as odd and striking as it should've been. How jaded were they when soul magic was old news. . .

_"Me too," Ron said._

_"Well, you hardly seem to need me. I'll just -" Lockhart started._

_"You can go first," growled Ron._

_"Boys, boys, what good will it do? I really don't think -"_

But before Lockhart could finish his statement Ron had pushed him down into the chamber. Hermione heard him let out a "hah" behind her as Harry jumped down into the pipe.

Suddenly all the Reviewers were descending like they would in an elevator but Hermione couldn't see anything - it was too much like falling, flying without something underneath her - she reached out to try to grab Ron's arm and found one with way too much hair. She didn't let go until they got to the bottom of the pipe and saw Lockhart getting to his feet and then Harry as well.

Parnell patted her hand genially and smiled at her and then walked over to stand closer to Lockhart. Her cheeks burned, they hadn't had a proper conversation yet and there she was trying to practically hold hands. She looked over her shoulder where Ron and Harry were whispering something to each other. She narrowed her eyes, were they making fun of her? She turned back away from them in a huff. Fine. She'd just ignore them and watch this and hopefully learn something. She crossed her arms and immersed herself in the event in front of her.

_"Remember, any sign of movement, close your eyes right away . . ."_

Harry was leading through the cavern and Hermione noticed that she could stay still and float along behind them on the memory or walk along behind. Walking felt better so she walked closer to her twelve year old friends. Had they really been this small? And herself! She'd always been shorter than Harry, how talk would she be if she was walking beside them, just - how old now? Would she have had her birthday? Yes - thirteen. Well if she was thirteen for this then Ron was thirteen for this as well - her earlier math had been wrong, she frowned.

_"Harry - there's something up there -"_

_"Maybe it's asleep," Harry offered._

They had just gotten to the snake skin, Hermione realized this must have disintegrated over the five year gap because it wasn't there anymore when she and Ron had come down here just a few weeks ago. Smelled loads better as well. . .

_"Blimey," said Ron weakly._

Lockhart collapsed beside her and Hermione jumped.

_"Get up." _

Then in a flash Lockhart had sprung to his feet and lunged at the thirteen year old Ron on her other side, Hermione shrieked as Lockhart dove through her torso to get to Ron and she scrambled out of the way of the ministry. She clearly heard Harry laughing and turned around to give him a look. She pointed at her wand and raised an eyebrow in what she knew was an empty threat. He smiled at her but at least he quit laughing. She couldn't even make eye contact with Ron.

_"The adventure ends here, boys! I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories! Obliviate!" _

Suddenly the wall behind Lockhart had given way and the Reviewers all were moved about ten feet away on the smooth memory to where Harry was scrambling in the snake skin.

_"Ron! Are you okay. Ron!"_

_"I'm here! I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand - "_

A loud "ow!" followed a thud and Hermione figured Ron was pretty pleased with himself for this.

_"What now? We can't get through - it'll take ages ..."_

No it wouldn't, Hermione thought before she remembered - second year. Sometimes she just wished she could absorb magic instead of having to learn it a piece at a time, so slowly.

_"Wait there, wait with Lockhart. I'll go on... If I'm not back in an hour. . ."_

_"I'll try and shift some of this rock. So you can - can get back through. And, Harry -" _

_"See you in a bit."_

Hermione heard the shake in Ron's voice and saw Harry's hand shaking as he turned, wand in hand toward the chamber. She felt her heart swell for them. They'd all been meant for this for so long. She suddenly remembered what Ron had said when they were on the chessboard - "Not me, not Hermione. YOU." How true that had turned out to be.

All the Reviewers followed Harry through the tunnel's many turns, how had Ron known where to go in here for the fangs if he had been stuck at the entrance?

Finally, they came to a wall with intertwined snakes carved and Hermione heard Harry hiss again. The wall opened and a trembling Harry stepped through.

Suddenly, the air rippled around them and the loudest voice she had ever heard yelled from above them. Loud enough that the air broke with it, making her stumble.

"PARNELL! AVERY HAS BEEN SPOTTED. WE'VE GOT TWO AUROR'S ON HIM. WE'RE LEAVING FOR THE RAID NOW!"

The ripples were amplified like waves in a pond after a rock had been thrown in. Hermione looked up and tried to find Ron just as they were all hauled back up into the conference room all blinking at each other in shock as Parnell ran from the room behind a tall, athletic Auror with curly blond hair.

Lenora packed her things and then looked up at them. "So!" she brightly chirped. "Postpone this testimony until next? And then we'll resume, tomor - wait. I'll check with Parnell and owl you about tomorrow's meeting." Lenora started gathering her things and mumbled under her breath "and today is Wednesday so tomorrow is Thursday..."

"Oh, Ron - Robes are ready today," Harry said, looking at Ron beside Hermione.

"Right," Ron said, turning to her. "Madam Malkins?"

"Um," she wasn't sure she wanted to venture back into Diagon Alley today. The last few days had felt like a full out sprint. Memories to shopping to the Burrow to planning to memories . . . a looping spiral of a sprint. "I think I'm going to speak with Kingsley if he is available and then go back to the Burrow. I don't fancy any shopping or excursions just now I don't think."

Harry shrugged but Ron looked disappointed. She smirked at him. His emotions were usually written so plainly across his face. It was endearing. Hermione walked with them out of the conference room and then turned left when Harry and Ron turned right. She walked briskly to Kingsley's office and knocked lightly.

"Come in," said Kingsley's deep voice from the other side of the heavy black door.

"Hi," Hermione stepped through the door and Kingsley stood up from his desk, all types of glass and gold tubes behind his desk where a painting or window might have been, and motioned to the oversized blue arm chairs in front of his desk.

"What's on your mind?"

"I'd like discuss next year?"

"What about?" Kingsley asked as a roll of parchment dropped into one of the glass tubes behind him. The roll was turned slightly but she could read the words "_Department of Magical Transportation_" written in a beautiful script. So they were for direct communication with Kingsley. Glass must be arriving and gold must be departing, she decided.

"I'd like," Hermione looked down at the polished surface of Kingsley's desk, "well if it's possible, I'd like to finish my NEWTS by correspondence and accept the job with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I know it's unusual but. . ." When she looked up, Kingsley was nodding at her and smiling gently.

She let out a breath, letting her tense shoulders relax and drop, and smiled back at him. This was going to work. She felt a feeling of relief spread to her toes and fingers.


	10. Snoggles and Snogging

_. . . Chapter 10 _

_. . . Snoggles and Snogging . . . _

* * *

After they picked up their robes, Ron and Harry headed by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. As they walked through the front door, the typical tidal wave of sound rolled over them. Girls were squealing at the love potions, an Anti Gravity Hat whirred by his head, and Ron noticed a new product poster.

Harry Potter's Glasses: Turn all your friends into this knight in shining armor and give some to your friends so you'll look also like the charmer. COMING SOON!

Ron frowned at the electric red, glittering poster and walked toward the back with Harry following close behind.

"Guess George has a new product, yeah?" Harry asked Ron, quietly with a hint of humor in his voice.

"Looks like it. Tactful," said Ron. It might be in bad taste but Ron was secretly thrilled that George had made the decision to continue with creating new products. He'd have to tell Hermione when they got back to the Burrow.

Lee was helping a few younger girls choose Pygmy Puffs in the corner near the window so Ron ducked under the counter and knocked on the store room door.

"George?"

" 'moment!"

" S'me, Ron and Harry."

They heard a bang from behind the door and then some decidedly foul smelling blue haze started wafting under the door at their feet. George threw the door open, goggles on, hair blackened, and a bubble head charm covering his mouth and nose.

"Hiya Ron, Harry. Need something?"

Ron stared at him. He was being so . . . normal. It was unsettling and reassuring all at once.

"No, inventing something?" He asked, holding his nose shut.

"Oh, yes. Snoggle Bombs. Smell like those Snoggle weeds that Professor Spout showed our class in first year? Second year? Something like that. How bad are they?"

Ron's eyes were watering and Harry had a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Horrible," Harry said through his hand. Ron glanced at him and saw Harry's eyes tearing up as well.

"Ah - Excellent! Come in!"

Ron and Harry walked back into the Store Room, there was an enormous list posted to one of the wood sided walls. Ron recognized some of George's handwriting and some of Freds. Heart leaping at Fred's handwriting, Ron scanned the list. Fred's suggestions were "_Harry Potter's Glasses - turns everyone into Harrys, Snoggle Bombs - self explanatory, Fire Jars - light in a jar, Swimmer Sweggals - charm that makes Sweggals swim through the air, Instant Imagination - daydream potion, Acceptus Absorbus - makes anyone feel friendly and social for two hours, Instant Admonishment Mail - punishment for people being naughty chose the person and goes straight to them like a howler but meaner. . ._ " Ron quit scanning the list when George coughed behind him as he took off the bubble charm.

"Merlin's pants!" George sputtered as he was hit with the smell. "Nailed it!" He said brightly.

Ron turned around to George happily, he'd been worried after he and Harry had talked with Hermione that George wasn't going to be able to move on without some damaging habits but this, Fred's list, was going to be his outlet. He missed Fred so much, this felt like the right thing, really, for him and for George. Ron suddenly remembered what his mum had said -

"Oh, George, Saturday. Would you want to be leaving with us from the Burrow? A few Aurors were going to Apparate with us to the Ministry for the ceremony and ball."

"Hm? No, I'll probably just leave from here. Lee got an invitation too and we'll probably go together, yeah? Alright?" George turned to ask him.

"Yeah, just owl mum and tell her, she'll want to know," he suggested.

"Can do," George said, turning excitedly back to the Snoggle Bombs. Ron and Harry turned to head for the door of the store room.

"Oi, got the Floo back hooked up for the shop to the house, use it! Make sure it works," George called at them, pointing them out the door where the shop's fireplace was.

Ron's thoughts went immediately to the list, had there been anything there about jokes and the Floo network? He'd only scanned for Fred's handwriting. Harry seemed more trusting than Ron felt, striding over to the fireplace and confidently grabbing a handful of Floo Powder. When Harry said "The Burrow" and disappeared without incident, Ron reluctantly copied him and landed on the floor of the living room, holding the bag with his dress robes without incident. He looked at Harry who had his back turned to him and was facing a mirror.

"What is it! Are we - " Ron asked, scrambling to get a view of himself in the mirror. He and Harry were wearing a delightful palette of full makeup - rogue, stuff on their eyes, lipstick. Harry was grinning at his reflection and Ron let out a stream of words he wasn't proud of just as his mum and Ginny came into the room. Ron and Harry turned around, Harry smirking but blushing in front of Ginny and Ron fuming. Ginny let out a guttural laugh that shook the living room.

"Mum! We just came from the shop and - "

"You look lovely Ronald, Harry!" Ginny guffawed.

Mum had a hand on her heart like she was looking at two five year olds that got into her makeup and she'd never seen anything sweeter in her whole life - she'd gone mental.

"George had prank Floo Powder!" Ron finished, yelling.

Then mum's weird, maternal look connected. Ron realized that George hadn't pranked anyone in the last two weeks until now. George was coming back, slowly.

Then from beside him, Harry started chuckling and Ron, pissed off as he was, let himself smile. He turned to go upstairs and mum started laughing as well. Fred would always be with them somehow. Ron walked up to the bathroom, dropping his new robes in his room as he went, and as he washed his face, Ron decided he'd have to memorize that list of Fred and George's.

That night, the mood at dinner felt immensely lighter than any meal had yet at the Burrow. Mum and dad were in better sprits. Hermione informed the table that she had received permission from Kingsley, who would speak with McGonagall in the next day or two, to take her NEWTS and get lessons by owl and begin working with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures which Ron had been pleased was toasted excitedly by his dad. Ron and Harry had told his parents about their decision to accept Kingsley's offer to become Aurors, bypassing their completion of Hogwarts and dad had toasted again. Ginny had looked a bit sullen at that bit of news but smiled when she caught Ron's eye.

He knew Harry and Ginny were pleasant again, talking at least. He knew she was still a bit sore about being left out of the whole of last year but she'd come around - she was just proving a point, Ron thought.

After dinner, Ron had challenged Harry to a game of Exploding Snap and Hermione had watched and laughed with them instead of going off to find a book or something more 'intellectual'. For a little while, he felt like they were all normal, eighteen year olds who just played Exploding Snap and had calm, enjoyable summer nights.

* * *

_Ron was playing quidditch over the orchard in the backyard against Harry. Ginny was on Ron's team. He and Ginny had just scored against Harry - a feat in and of itself when he heard what sounded distinctly like an eight hundred pound cat was purring under them. He looked down and saw a huge, blue-furred creature galloping through the orchard below them. It had enormous yellow horns. Ron flew up a little higher to get away from it and then Luna suddenly appeared on his broom behind him. _

_"Oh that's the Crumple-Horned Snorkack! They're usually not found so far west!"_

_Ron was startled by Luna's voice and was falling off his broom, plummeting toward the ground below - _

* * *

He jumped so hard that he shook himself awake. The sun was peaking over the tree outside his window. Ron groaned and turned back over in his bed.

After a few minutes of trying to go back to sleep, a light tap-tap of a fingernail sounded at his door.

"Ronald?" Hermione's voice.

"Yeah? S'unlocked," he whispered back to her.

Hermione's face appeared as she gently swung Ron's door open, cringing when the hinges complained loudly about being used. She looked at Harry who was still sleeping and walked over to Ron's bed. He scooted over for her to sit beside him and propped himself up on his side. When she got closer, Ron noticed that she looked shaken up a bit.

"Alright?" he whispered. His voice shook a bit, betraying his worry.

She turned to face him better and brought one of her legs up onto the bed.

"Yeah, just. . .I don't sleep really well every night anymore. . ."

"Waking up a lot?" he asked, thinking that that probably wasn't the case, it hadn't been the case at Bill and Fleur's.

"No," she smiled a little, "I wish. Nightmares about. . . well some about the battle but mostly about what happened at the manor or about Greyback. It's just. . . It's like it's following me around, you know?"

Ron reached out and grabbed her unscarred arm and pulled her closer to him so that she had to reposition and lay down. They were laying on their sides, facing each other.

He put his hand on her waist over her dark green Holyhead Harpies shirt - Ginny's - and pulled her a bit nearer. He lifted the orange blanket and pulled her closer still and spread the blanket so that she was under it with him. His feet were sticking out now but he didn't dare kick them around or move too much.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead softly, she smelled perfect. The contact and her smell made his pulse race uncomfortably. He dropped his head onto the pillow and wrapped his arms around her tightly, bringing her face against his chest. There was nothing he could say about Greyback that would comfort her but he knew after they had spent a couple nights in this very position in Shell Cottage that she would feel safe enough with him to be able to go back to sleep.

After a few minutes, Ron could feel her deeper breathing against his shirt. Ron tried to force himself to go back to sleep but he couldn't concentrate with the way Hermione was pressed against him. They were chest to chest, hip to hip. He swallowed hard and tried not to concentrate on the fact that he couldn't feel the presence of a bra. The front of her feet rested against his shins, one of her hands was under her face, and her other arm was over his side so that the tips of her small fingers barely brushed against his back. His Hermione, breathing peacefully in his arms.

When the sun had risen and was shining into his room, highlighting Hermione's cheek and eyelashes, Ron heard Harry turn over on his cot. Ron shifted so he could unwrap his arms from around Hermione - best not to have his mum walk in to wake them up for their meeting with the Reviewers and find them snuggled up in his bed like they'd been that way all night, which they pretty much had.

Ron gently got up and left Hermione on his pillow and headed downstairs to find Ginny already up in the kitchen.

"You're up early. Have a good morning, have you?" Ginny smirked at him.

Right, she'd woken up and Hermione was gone. He tried to keep his ears from reddening - a losing battle - so he walked over and grabbed a cup and poured himself some of the tea she'd made.

"I'm just taking the mickey out of you," Ginny said smiling, "I think it's great. It's about time. Thought you'd mess it up forever with your fooling around in fifth year - oh, your sixth, I suppose. Fancy a look at the _Prophet_? You said they were going after Avery?"

Ron nodded at her and she slid him the Daily Prophet across the table.

The headline read _"DEATH EATERS AVERY AND SCALENS CAPTURED, TAKEN TO AZKABAN" _Ron scanned the article quickly and recognized the names of a few people - Parnell, and his heart dropped, Alicia Spinnet whose Muggle mother had been killed by Avery sometime during the last year.

"Well that's two more at least, then," he said, looking back up at Ginny who was nodding solemnly. They sat together in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea.

"Oh! Sorry, forgot - owl brought this half an hour ago for the three of you," Ron noticed a twinge in her voice as she said 'three' and looked up to see her handing him a letter with a Ministry seal.

_Good Morning, _

_Parnell is busy with paperwork on last night's raid. Today's meeting is cancelled. We'll resume tomorrow at nine am. _

_Lenora_

"Meeting is cancelled for today," Ron said, relieved. They'd hardly had a break since the final battle and looked forward to spending the day doing nothing.

"Are you aware that Hermione is in your bed?" Harry asked, appearing at the landing above the kitchen. Half of his hair was standing straight up and his eyes were still swollen from sleep and he had lines on his face where the sheet had been crumpled under his head.

"Are you aware that you look like a complete git?" snipped Ron, glancing around in fear that his mum had heard Harry's bloody announcement.

Harry just smiled at him and took the seat beside Ginny. After a moment, Ron could tell Harry and Ginny were eyeing each other and with the way they were sitting they were probably holding hands. He felt unquestionably out of place so he stood up and headed back to his room and the brunette in his bed.

When he got back to his room, Hermione had wrapped her arms around his pillow and he smiled down at her, cracking the door behind him.

He sat on the bed beside her and put his hand on the hip of her pajama shorts .

"Hm?" she yawned and stretched, slowly opening her eyes to him in the lit room. She turned so that she was on her back.

"Oh, sorry. . .I was just, erm. . . " he realized he didn't know where he was headed with that sentence so he just looked at her sleepy, smiling face.

"Oh, thanks for this morning," she said, sitting up in bed. "That makes twice this week so that's an improvement." She finished with a laugh but Ron could tell she was bothered by it.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I had a dream about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Luna was riding a broom with me," he flicked his eyes over her face as he spoke. Her face relaxed.

She laughed and looked at him. "Loads better."

She leaned closer to him and his stomach fluttered as she closed her eyes and kissed him, harder than he had expected. He responded by taking the weight off of his arm and grabbing her shoulder, pulling her closer to himself. After a minute or more he deepened the kiss and leaned into her, gently laying Hermione back on the mattress and tilting so that his torso was above hers. All his nerves were on fire as she gave his tongue entry into her mouth for the first time. Hermione groaned lightly against his mouth and Ron moved the hand without his weight on it and grazed her side until he reached her waist, pulling her up against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his back and Ron's thoughts ran wild for the next few minutes. Hermione. _Hermione._ Hermione in his bed. Hermione snogging him senseless. Hermione that he could lean back and lay on top of - a pop sounded from outside and he broke away from the kiss.

Hermione was breathing heavily, looking up at him as if in a daze. Ron noticed her lips were slightly red and swollen. It made him prouder than it should have.

"Why'd you . . ." she started to ask him.

"Somebody just got here. Sound outside," he was surprised at how calm that whisper sounded when he spoke, every inch of him was tingling.

She sat up quickly and made to put her feet on the floor but before she stood she leaned to him and gave him a quick kiss. When she pulled away from him her eyes were still shut. "I love you, Ron Weasley."

He grinned at her even though she couldn't see it. "I love you, Hermione Granger."

* * *

It had been Mr. Weasley that had Apparated in from a raid. After they had a very late breakfast, Hermione motioned for Ron to follow her in the living room and he noticed she had her beaded bag in hand. Harry and Ginny were sharing a seat. Ron eyed them warily and started to wonder if he should say something but Hermione put a hand on his arm. He looked at her.

"I wondered if you would want to look through some of my thing I brought from my parents' house?" she asked them, looking around the room. "I have a few old pictures of us that are pretty funny but I also wanted to look through some of their files and. . . you know. . .everything else."

She sat in the middle of the floor of the room and as Ron, Harry, and Ginny all agreed that they wanted to go through her things with her. She opened the beaded bag and used her wand to draw out an enormous book - light green with her initials, _HJG, _sewed onto the front. Ron wondered if she had sewn that. Did Hermione know how to sew? Probably, he decided.

"Before school and everything got so difficult, I used to save everything in this book. Since about fourth year, I've thrown things into the back so it's a little disorganized as of late."

They spent the rest of the morning laughing at old pictures of Hermione and themselves and comforting Hermione when she would flip to a page with her parents. She didn't cry about it but did tear up a few times. Ron knew she was holding it in, being strong for them. . .

When they read her parent's will and last wishes, Hermione wasn't surprised about the will- they had left her everything - but was taken aback that they had very exact last wishes down to what songs would be sung in the church funeral and what readings they wanted read. Before Ron could blink, Hermione had slammed the file closed and gone upstairs in a hurry and Ron heard the shower turn on a minute later. She'd gone to cry, alone. He wondered how many times she'd done that since the manor.

When she reemerged from upstairs Ron and Harry suggested going to look at houses and she'd smiled brightly at them. Ron had known that it would take time for Hermione, his family, and himself to heal but he was anxious for that nagging, cold feeling to quit dragging them back down into despair from the happy spot they had so recently reached.


	11. Time and Mysteries

_. . . Chapter 11 _

_. . . Time and Mysteries . . . _

* * *

Hermione woke up on Friday thinking about the two houses they had found the day before. A few weeks from now she could be waking up in a smallish white cottage with a gorgeous willow in the backyard but only two bedrooms and a office that would have to be converted. Or she could be in a yellow, brick house that was hugely spacious, four bedrooms, with a backyard that no amount of flutterby bushes could improve. What time was it?

She looked around Ginny's room - no clocks. _Honestly, Ginny, how do you get anything done on time_, she wondered. She slid out of bed and tip toed over to the door and stuck her head out of the door and saw Mrs. Weasley rounding the landing above.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Weasley, what's the time?"

"'Round seven, dear. Breakfast is downstairs if you're hungry," she said before smiling and continuing down the stairs.

She wasn't hungry, not yet. She went to the bath and undressed in front of the mirror. Over the last week, with Ginny's encouragement and Ron's and Harry's the marks on her arm were becoming slowly more bearable. She put her back toward the mirror and twisted around so that she could see her back - when she and Harry had escaped Godric's Hollow she'd fallen as she was Apparating holding an barely conscious Harry and they'd taken some of the broken glass in the room with them. Ill-aimed dittany could only heal so many layers of her broken skin. Those scars weren't nearly as shocking as her arm but it did make her think about Ron - would he care that she was marked forever? She just realized where her mind had gone and blushed, turning the water for the shower on.

She turned the water up as hot as her skin could take and let her mind wander about the ball tomorrow. She'd be able to dance with Ron but how pleasant could it really be - seeing all the people there and then, worse, not seeing a few faces. She was nervous about her dress - would Ron like it? would it be inappropriate? - but shook her head to clear her mind. The dress was bought. She'd need to go to Diagon Alley though for Sleekeasy or something similar.

An hour after she got out of the shower, Hermione, Ron, and Harry all left for the Ministry. Mr. Weasley had gotten the morning off in light of the additional raids he had taken for the last two nights.

When they walked into Kingsley's offices, they saw Lenora waiting for them at the conference door.

"Right! You three, follow me! We've been moved to a new room so that Kingsley can recoup use of his conference room!"

Hermione turned and followed Lenora back to the elevator meeting Harry's bewildered gaze.

"Lenora, where are we going exactly?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, the Department of Mysteries. A spare office there for now. Seems that the Ministry made need an addition - it's hard finding a quiet, private place for these meetings to happen!"

Hermione grabbed the handle above her in the elevator as it began to move and Harry stepped hard on her toe.

"Ouch!" she glared his direction.

"Sorry," he muttered, distractedly and Hermione saw a melancholy expression cross his face.

Oh, Sirius. They were always somewhere that reminded her of something painful they'd been through it seemed.

They stepped out onto the black marble, Lenora's heels clicked and echoed down the hall. They reached a doorway, thankfully not the one they had gone through in fifth year, and Lenora unlocked it before them. Parnell and Percy were already seated at the square stone table in the dark room. Hermione glanced around the room - it couldn't be more different than Kingsley's conference room. Dark, black marble closed the room in from floor to ceiling and off-putting green lanterns lit the room in a sickly glow. At least the chairs looked comfortable - plush magenta chairs lined the table.

A few minutes later, they had re-entered the memory from the Chamber of Secrets that had been interrupted by the blonde Auror.

All of the Reviewers and a shaky, twelve year old Harry were in a long dark tunnel lined by enormous carved snakes. The place was lit with a green glow that was similar but also much more sinister than the green glow of the room they had just left. As Harry moved to the back of the Chamber, the enormous statue came into view as did the petite form of Ginny.

_"Ginny!" Harry said as he ran to her. "Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead." Harry turned Ginny over in his arms and looked down at her white face. "Ginny, please wake up."_

Hermione glanced at Harry who looked like he was trying to detach himself from the memory. After all, this was the girl he loved, although it was the eleven year old version of her. She turned back when she heard a smooth, soft voice address Harry.

_"She won't wake."_

_"Tom - Tom Riddle."_

_"What d'you mean, she won't wake. She's not - she's not -." _

_"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But only just."_

_"Are you a ghost?"_

_"A memory. Preserved in a diary for fifty years."_

_"You've got to help me, Tom," Harry said, lifting Ginny's head gently._

_"We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk ... I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment ... Please, help me." _

Harry lifted Ginny off of the floor after straining to do so and Hermione heard someone's feet shifting behind her. The younger Harry was looking around for something.

_"Did you see - " Riddle was twirling Harry's wand. "Thanks," Harry said but Riddle didn't hand him the wand._

_"Listen, we've got to go! If the basilisk comes -" _

_"It won't come until it is called," Riddle said._

Harry had to set Ginny back down on the ground and the grown Harry behind Hermione coughed. She stepped backwards and when she reached Harry's side she looped her arm through his. She could only imagine how tough seeing Ginny like that was even if it was five years ago.

_"What d'you mean? Look, give me my wand, I might need it -"_

"You won't be needing it."

_What d'you mean, I won't be -." _

_"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter. For the chance to see you. To speak to you." _

_"Look," said Harry, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later -"_

_"We're going to talk now."_

_"How did Ginny get like this?"_

_"Well, that's an interesting question and quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."_

_"What are you talking about?" said Harry._

_"The diary," said Riddle. `My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how - how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her . . . ." _

Hermione heard Harry inhale and exhale slowly through his nose beside her. She patted his arm with her free hand and hoped that he got the message of reassurance that she was trying to convey.

_"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven- year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom ... I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in ... It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket . . . ."_

_"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted ... I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her. . ."_

_"What d'you mean?" said Harry._

_"Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter." said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, - "_

Herself included, Hermione thought numbly. Though being Petrified was a lot easier than coming down here had been for Harry and Ron she was sure.

_"- and the Squib's cat."_

_"No."_

_"Yes," said Riddle. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries ... far more interesting, they became ... Dear Tom, I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, l can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me... There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do. I think I'm going mad... I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom! It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet . ."_

Ron was standing on the other side of Harry when Hermione looked up. Hermione hadn't realized how much Riddle had talked about Ginny and what she had done to Harry. He had left this conversation out when he'd told her about it - she wondered if Harry had left it out for Ron as well . . .

_"And why did you want to meet me?"_

_"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history. I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust -"_

_"Hagrid's my friend and you framed him, didn't you. I thought you made a mistake, but -"_

_"It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student ...  
on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls ... but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance ... as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power! Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed ... Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did ..."_

_"I bet Dumbledore saw right through you."_

_"Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled. I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years Id spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work." _

_"Well, you haven't finished it. No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again -" _

Ron moved behind Harry and closer to Hermione. She reached behind her with her left hand, blushing when her hand made contact with his thigh but happy that he had taken her hand an instant after that. Merlin's beard, she'd almost . . .

_"Haven't I already told you that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore. For many months now, my new target has been -you." _

_"Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you. What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters. So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery -"_

A trait of Harry's that Hermione knew well she and Ron had bickered about the merits and drawbacks of Harry's curiosities about the Hallows almost endlessly in the last year.

_" - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue ... So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her ... She put too much into the diary, into me."_

Hermione felt Ron move closer to her so that his front brushed her back. She tried not to gasp at their closeness. He must have felt her move in her surprise because he started gently moving his thumb over the back of her hand.

_"Enough to let me leave its pages at last ... I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."_

_"Like what."_

_"Well, how is it that you a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time. How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed."_

"Why do you care how I escaped." said Harry. "Voldemort was after your time ..."

_"Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter . . . ." _

Then the Reviewers watched Riddle conjure three words: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. Then the letters of his name rearranged themselves: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

_"You see. It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever. I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side. I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch. No, Harry - I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"_

_"You're not," Harry said bravely._

"Not what?"

"Not the greatest sorcerer in the world. Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days -"

Hermione smiled at her younger friend. Dumbledore's man through and through - that's what the phrase had been, right? He may have had his faults and misguided, sacrificial leanings but Harry had a good heart, a loyal heart.

_"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!"_

_"He's not as gone as you might think!"_

The Reviewers turned silently on the Chamber floor as they heard music that was melodious but simultaneously jarring. Fawkes, Hermione recognized.

_"That's a phoenix."_

"Fawkes."

_"And that - that's the old school Sorting Hat - This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter. Do you feel safe now?"_

Hermione's ears were ringing with Riddle's laughter. She raised her head and stared him down. He wouldn't be laughing when that very hat gave Neville the sword the cut one of the last ties Voldemort had to this world. She looked around the chamber and realized, now that she had more time to observe it, how courageous Harry and Ron had been to come in here after Ginny five long years ago.

_"To business, Harry. Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive. Tell me everything. The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive."_

Hermione watched Harry survey all of his options. The Harry beside her shifted uncomfortably as if he wanted to reach out and help himself. She squeezed his arm a bit tighter.

_"No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me," said Harry. "I don't know myself But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother. She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul -"_

_"So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now ... there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself We even look something alike ... but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."_

_Riddle started speaking again. "Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him . . . ."_

Hermione heard him let out a horrible, sneering hiss and felt her heart start racing. Then it clicked, they were watching these memories and instead of feeling detached and informed, she felt nervous and completely boggled. They were really too close, too involved with these memories to be able to view them objectively. She wondered if the Reviewers had considered that they would be very little help at all with information or if they were simply part of the Reviewers in order to justify obtaining all of these memories. She started to get a little bothered about feeling used but all current emotions melted away when she saw Slytherin's mouth open into a huge, dark hole.

Fawkes had taken flight away from Harry who had frantically wheeled around. Then everything around the Reviewers went dark.

"Memory's defective!" Parnell said, loudly.

"No, it's not. I closed my eyes for a while," spoke Harry softly beside Hermione. She felt the feeling that always preceded tears prick at her eyes. Twelve years old.

Hermione heard a hiss from Riddle and a heavy slithering noise and her heart started pounding against her ribs. After listening for what couldn't have been very long, the room came back into view, dimly, as if Harry was squinting.

Hermione realized they were watching Fawkes fight the basilisk from behind. Then the horrible snake turned to stare at them with sightless, bloody eyes and Riddle let out a string of horrendous hisses.

_"Help me, help me, someone - anyone." _

Hermione couldn't help it when tears sprung to her eyes at Harry's desperate plea. They were all so young - then and even now still. She looked up at the ceiling so that she wouldn't cry - she only felt young in rare bits and moments: kissing Ron, laughing at old pictures, holding hands with Ron like she was just now, getting teased by Ginny, joking with Harry, listening to Ginny talk in the dark, Mrs. Weasley hugging her . . . she struggled to think of something else so that she wouldn't completely lose her senses. She felt Ron scoot closer so that he wasn't brushing against her back any more but pressing against it. Even as upset as she was for their collective loss of youth, Hermione's stomach flipped over and her heart skipped - maybe they could recapture it: feeling so young.

Harry was dodging the huge snake but trying to stab him with Gryffindor's sword. Finally, Harry lunged and pierced the snake with his sword just as Hermione saw with horror that one of the basilisks fang had sunk into Harry's upper arm and Hermione gasped as Harry shifted beside her.

The Reviewers saw the Chamber start to go foggy and swirly until everything was blobs of color except the six Reviewers standing and watching. They all heard Harry speak to the blur of red that must have been Fawkes.

_"Fawkes, you were fantastic, Fawkes . . . ."_

A shadow got closer -

_"You're dead, Harry Potter, dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter. He's crying."_

Hearing those words brought back that horrible moment outside the Forbidden Forest when she and everyone else thought that Harry had died and in the haze Hermione couldn't hold back her tears any longer and felt them fall down her face and cling to her neck and they dripped down to hit the front of her shirt. She couldn't wipe them away, one hand was being caressed by Ron and the other was looped through Harry's arm.

_"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry... So ends the famous Harry Potter. Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry... She bought you twelve years of borrowed time ... but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must . . . ."_

As he spoke, Hermione saw through her tears that the room was coming more into focus and suddenly she could see Harry again looking at his arm, bemused.

_"Get away, bird. Get away from him - I said, get away - Phoenix tears. Of course ... healing powers ... I forgot. . .But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter ... you and me..."_

Fawkes then delivered the diary to Harry who reacted immediately, stabbing the diary with the fang he had torn out of his own arm. Ink went everywhere and even though she knew it wouldn't touch her, Hermione stepped back from the ink oozing across the floor.

The Reviewers watched Harry stand as if in a daze and retrieve the sword and Hermione noticed Ginny stirring.

_"Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d- diddt mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing. W-where's Riddle. The last thing I r- remember is him coming out of the diary -"_

_" It's all right! Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here -" _

_"I'm going to be expelled! I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and - w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"_

The Reviewers followed Harry and Ginny back to the entrance and Hermione noticed that all of them were walking but Lenora was riding the smooth surface of the memory - for writing purposes, perhaps.

_"Ron! Ginny's okay! I've got her!"_

From the other side of the rocks, Ron let out a gleeful whoop. Hermione turned to look up at the Ron beside her but he was staring down at her with an expression she couldn't place and then she remembered with a sinking feeling - she'd been crying. She reached up and felt tears and tear tracks covering her face. Great, nice job, Hermione.

As the thirteen year old Ron started to speak from the other side of the wall the memory ended and they went back to the bleak and dreary new meeting room. Lenora gave her standard summary and exited. As they walked into the lobby, Parnell invited them all to lunch but Hermione had made plans to meet Ginny at Diagon Alley for something to tame her hair although, if she was honest with herself, she had lost so much hair from worry and lack of eating over the last year that her hair was actually more manageable and flattered her more than ever.

She said a quick goodbye to Harry and hugged him goodbye and turned to Ron who looked at her with his head slightly sideways.

"Coming home right after?" he asked her quietly.

"Yes," she breathed, aware of how close they were standing.

"Ok, be careful, yeah?" His eyes softened and he reached out and touched her arm at the elbow and pinched it lightly.

"I will," she smiled up at him and he hugged her quickly and followed Harry, Parnell and Percy out one of the fireplaces. She headed to Diagon Alley and to meet Ginny at some new store there: Gwendoloena's Grand something or others. After she had met up with her and bought her products - hair, nail polish, and even some additional makeup outside of her regular light lip-gloss and mascara at Ginny's insistence - Hermione and Ginny planned how they were going to look at the ball she let herself feel all of the girlish, nervous excitement of a normal eighteen year old girl.


	12. Posthumously and Parks

_. . . Chapter 12 _

_. . . Posthumously and Parks . . . _

* * *

Ron fumbled to tie his tie and finished putting on his dress robes and looked at himself in his mirror. He didn't even have time to look at himself properly before he heard his mum's ghastly shriek.

"WE'RE LEAVING! RONALD! GINNY! LET'S _GO_!"

He and Ginny bumped into each other on the stairs and clamored down to meet the Aurors helping them to the Ministry. Ron hated that they had to be escorted but on account of all the Death Eaters still at large it made sense. As he got down the stairs he saw Hermione from the side and stopped short. Bloody hell.

Her dress was black silk and clung to her usually hidden shape. He noticed with his eyes slipping lower that she was standing with all her weight on one leg so that her knee was easily outlined by the thin fabric. Her hair blocked her face from him. Her wonderful brown hair was all down but was gathered by a silver chain wrapped around a section of her hair just above her shoulder and below that the chain hung loosely in her hair. He noticed that her whole shoulder was showing under her hair just as she turned her back to him. Ron felt his stomach tighten. Her dress's black straps continued halfway down her back before her dress gathered in a 'v' at the middle of her spine. . .

"Ready dears?"

Hermione turned toward Ron and in an instant she was standing right in front of him under his chin. The smell of her hair was making him feel drunk, too heady, like he couldn't breathe. He held his breath. She was fixing his tie, he realized when the tie tightened behind his neck. He could feel her breath on his neck as she adjusted his tie and swallowed hard to calm his nerves. Then she stepped back and before he could thank her, Dawlish took his arm tightly.

As soon as their feet hit the hard concrete in an alley just outside of the Ministry, Ron swiveled around and tried to find Hermione in that dress again. This time she was facing him, far enough away that he could see her properly. Ron felt his heartbeat flicker and falter. Her dress was highlighting her small waist and hugged to her curves. The dress had a 'v' neckline in the front too that was lower than anything he'd ever seen Hermione in but still modest enough to still look like Hermione. Blimey, she was . . . He realized with a start that Hermione was looking up at him and blushing as she bashfully tucked some of her brown hair behind her ear with her light pink-painted fingers. He'd been caught. He felt his ears heat up.

"Alright, this is the Ministry's official entrance. Ceremony and the ball will take place in the lobby," Dawlish said, wiping his brown hair out of his large and uncomfortably piercing blue eyes, "through this archway, stand back."

While his family was standing and waiting for Dawlish to open the arch, Hermione had come to stand beside him and Harry had walked up to the other side of Hermione. Ron realized his family was going to let the three of them lead into the Ceremony and he felt his palms get slick with sweat.

John Dawlish stepped forward and pressed his hand to a smooth patch of red brick in the wall before them. Then, very much like the entrance to Diagon Alley, the bricks stacked and tucked up and away, opening a large archway that Grawp could have easily walked through.

A wall of humming and talking rolled out of the archway toward them.

"You three in first, Parnell and I will bring up the rear," Dawlish said, curtly.

Ron looked down and saw Hermione shivering, probably with nerves. He offered her his arm and nudged her gently with his elbow. Hermione grasped his arm quickly and he saw her reach out with her right arm for Harry's arm. For once, Ron didn't feel jealous of their closeness. Maybe he would've been jealous if this actually felt like real life. This was so dreamlike he half expected Luna to appear from behind him talking about Nargles or something.

Harry started walking forward to the arch and Ron sensed Hermione start onward with him. Ron wondered for an instant if Harry should have been walking in with Ginny but before he could turn around for her he saw that the entire lobby of the Ministry had been outfitted with hundreds, maybe thousands, of silver chairs all full of witches and wizards some of whom were standing and some of whom sat patiently, waiting for the commencement of the ceremony.

When Ron, Hermione, and Harry reached the back row of chairs, Ron remembered for a split second that photograph from the _Daily Prophet_ - was that only last week? - as flashes from cameras twinkled before them. As they walked toward the front where they would be on the stage for the ceremony, people began to become aware that the three of them had arrived. Suddenly, the room erupted and everyone around them stood and cheered, Ron felt a chill run down his spine and even with the flashing lights and the crowd he felt suddenly cold. They weren't just cheering for Harry. They were cheering for Harry, mostly, but also himself and Hermione and the end of the war. Hermione's arm twitched and pulled Ron's arm closer to her side. His elbow pressed against her breast and he inhaled sharply and held his breath to keep from reacting. He forced himself not to look down at her or move his arm too much. Keep walking, Ron, breathe: stage then ceremony then you get to dance with her in that bloody unbelievable dress.

The noise of the crowd just seemed to increase, echoing deafeningly in the lobby off of the marble surfaces, the closer they got to the stage. As passed the last of the fireplaces and came up to the stage in front of the fountain, Kingsley came into view as did several other witches and wizards, sitting in a line.

Hermione had started shaking by the time they reached the stage steps and Ron glanced down before he started up the stairs so that Hermione wouldn't trip - it was a long dress and she must have been in some fancy shoes because she seemed taller.

They took the stage and a nice looking witch with grey hair motioned to three seats that must have been for them. They reach their seats and dropped arms, turning to face the crowd as they took their places in their high back, black chairs. The next few minutes were a blur, Kingsley had some opening comments and read out a list of names of people who were responsible for the organization of the event and Ron saw several of the witches and wizards to his right wave their hands or stand to be acknowledged but all Ron could concentrate on was Hermione. She'd taken his hand the instant they had sat down in their chairs and here, in front of all these people, in front of these countless cameras, it was his hand she'd be seen holding against her silk-covered leg and it was all Ron could do to keep from grinning like he'd been hit with a Sensufelixas charm.

Finally, Kingsley's tone shifted and Ron quit his mind's wandering. McGonagall was sitting proudly in the front row. Ron threw a small smile at his family who were sitting in the second row of the crowd behind McGonagall and Bill nodded up at him, Fleur waved a bit at the three of them as well.

"And so will commence the dispensation of awards for the Order of Merlin. Order of Merlin, third class: Madam Professor Minerva McGonagall, for the continuous protection of the students at Hogwarts during the dark times Hogwarts endured last year."

Ron saw McGonagall stand from her chair and make her way up to Kingsley, who presented her with a small bag - money? Ron realized he didn't know what the Order of Merlin meant as far as the actual physical award - and slipped a dainty, long bronze chain with a pearl sized bronze charm over her neck.

"Order of Merlin, third class: Mister Otho Carlooti, for the passage of warnings to Muggles and Muggle-borns that were due for being raided or worse, saving countless lives.

Order of Merlin, third class: Mrs. Ursula Padridge, for the harboring of the hunted Muggle-borns and their families.

Order of Merlin, third class: Mr. Vaughn Padridge, posthumously, for the harboring of the hunted Muggle-borns and their families.

Order of Merlin, third class: Mister Professor Filius Flitwick, for the protection of the students over the year it was under the control of Tom Riddle and his followers.

Order of Merlin, third class: Miss Carpanthia Harnan, posthumously, for the brave protection of her younger brother in the attack by Death Eaters that killed her parents and Miss Carpanthia.

Order of Merlin, second class: Mister Sarone Saidron, posthumously, for the protection of countless Muggles in Devon, England."

Ron's head swam. Posthumously, there were so many of those . . . he hadn't considered that. . . And Devon? That was so close to home . . .

"Order of Merlin, second class: Mister Neville Longbottom, for the resistance he upheld during the last year at Hogwarts and for the destruction of Nagini, the snake Tom Riddle frequently used for attacks."

Hermione's clench on his hand tightened and Ron glanced at her, she was grinning at Neville with watery tears forming along her bottom lashes. Neville was walking up to the stage, smiling at them slightly. They'd come a long way since Hermione had Petrified him in first year hadn't they. Neville accepted a silver chain with a silver charm and small bag.

"Order of Merlin, second class: Mister Darfle McGrindle, posthumously, for the smuggling of Muggle-borns who were slated to stand trial into safe houses outside of England.

Order of Merlin, second class: Madam Wendell Harlow, for the protection charms she set upon countless Muggle houses and the houses of parents of Muggle-born children at Hogwarts at great personal risk."

The growing list of names was staggering, Ron realized that even though the three of them had felt so alone for the entirety of the last year, all these people, and surely innumerable, unsung others had been fighting for the same cause - if not always in the same way. How many people had done things and had risked their life and saved the lives of others? What would have happened if it truly had just been the three of them? Surely they wouldn't be sitting here now . . .

"Order of Merlin, first class: Mister Professor Albus Dumbledore, posthumously, for the discovery of Tom Riddle's plan and destruction of weapons of Tom Riddle."

The crowd had been clapping politely for each name until this one. 'Weapons' had been the word that Harry and Kingsley decided would be most appropriate to release to the public. While the public knew that Voldemort had been extremely hard to kill and had gone to great lengths to preserve himself - it was agreed that they didn't need to know a thing about the Horcruxes or how to create them, that would remain a ministry secret. The crowd stood to their feet and Kingsley paused for a longer time between Dumbledore's name and the next name. Hermione had long since let go of his hand so that they could applaud the recipients. When the crowd quieted down, Kingsley's deep voice resumed.

"Order of Merlin, first class: Mister Professor Severus Snape, posthumously, for the decades of espionage he performed to bring Tom Riddle down from within his own ranks."

The crowd clapped quietly and a number of whispers broke out briefly before Kingsley spoke again.

"Order of Merlin, first class: Miss Hermione Granger, for the destruction of weapons of Tom Riddle, feats accomplished over the last few years, and the bravery shown in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Hermione stood up with the black silk rippling over her shape. The crowd clapped loudly and Ron heard a few distinctive voices cheer, Seamus' thick accent sounded from somewhere but Ron kept his eyes on Hermione who was trembling as she accepted a golden chain with the golden charm and a large bag. As she returned to her seat, Kingsley cleared his throat. Ron wiped his hands nervously on the sides of his legs.

"Order of Merlin, first class: Mister Ronald Weasley, for the destruction of weapons of Tom Riddle, feats accomplished over the last few years, and the bravery shown in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Ron stood, he could hardly feel his knees and walked over to Kingsley, bending slightly to accept his golden chain and charm and being handed his bag by Kingsley. He felt like he was floating, he looked out at his parents as he took his seat beside Hermione. He almost jumped when he saw his dad crying. His dad had cried less than a handful of times - three of those times were lately, he realized, a bit sadly.

"Order of Merlin, first class: Mister Harry Potter, for the destruction of Tom Riddle, destruction of weapons of Tom Riddle, feats accomplished over the last year and throughout his live, and his sacrificial bravery shown in the Battle of Hogwarts."

If the crowd had been loud before then this uproar was something that Ron couldn't comprehend. Before even Harry could stand, the entire crowd was on its feet and Ron and Hermione, smiling at Harry, stood to applaud their best friend, as well.

When Harry accepted his award, Ron thought his ears might burst. How much louder could it get in this place? He saw that his parents were still crying as they had when he'd taken his award, looking at Harry. The weight of the small bag made Ron itch to open it and peek but he knew that would be in bad form.

When Harry finally made it back to his seat and took his spot on the other side of Ron. Kinglsey took to the Podium again.

"If you will all remain standing please - " Kingsley waited while the few in the crowd that had gotten seated again stood back up and with a wave of his hand, all the chairs burst into light and floated up above the crowd. The chairs transfigured into twinkling golden stars, hovering just above the heads of the people standing on the black marble. The lights were mirrored in the floor and the whole place glowed beautifully. "And now if Adrasteia Arate will join me at the podium -"

A witch that was almost as round as she was tall hopped out of her seat and bounced over to Kingsley quickly.

"Adrasteia Arate is acting as the Master of Ceremonies for the Remembrance Ball. We take this time to remember those whose lives were cut short and to celebrate the passage into a new era for our kind. In our lives we will continue to remember the many people who have fallen and through our lives we will honor them, thank you."

The crowd applauded Kingsley who stepped away from the podium and headed down the stairs. Harry had started to move toward the stairs as well and Ron realized that he and Hermione should follow suit. He was pleased when she looped her arm through his before he had actually thought to offer it to her.

As they moved down the stairs, Adrasteia began speaking about moving forward with a celebration and a moment later she said something that made all the hair on the back of Ron's neck stand up -

"If all of our award recipients would please take the floor and if one of their family members would honor them by taking to the floor for the first dance."

Hermione inhaled beside him and whispered quietly, "That was a bit insensitive, yeah? Ron, your mum."

Ron let go of Hermione's arm and took his mum's arm stiffly. Neville and his Gran were walking toward the center of the crowd. McGonagall was walking with a stranger, looked to be in his thirties - a nephew? He realized he didn't know if she had children. The man that Ron remembered was Otho Carlooti walked by him with who Ron presumed was his wife. Hermione and Harry were standing a couple feet apart looking around. Hermione made eye contact with Ron, her eyes were unusually bright and watery. Ron saw Fleur moving quickly toward Harry and George headed for them as well.

In the next instant Fleur had grabbed Harry's arm and was moving toward the circle that the crowd had formed. George extended his arm to Hermione to dance and Ron watched her let out a breath of relief. Ron grasped two things at once, Harry and Hermione were pretty much already family and that he loved the way Hermione being family sounded. Hermione Weasley. The thought made him redden so he tried to clear his head of that particular thought and as the band started up a slow, somber but melodious tune.

His mum was crying and dabbing at her eyes as they danced with a lacy yellow handkerchief that matched her dress. He glanced over his mum's head. Fleur and Harry moved around the floor - Fleur was wearing a vermillion red dress that reflected red on the marble among the gold lights. He wondered if she had gone to Hogwarts if she would have been a Gryffindor. . . The other award winners were dancing as well.

Then he saw her, really saw her - George had spun her and the short train on Hermione's dress that showed off her upper back swished around the floor behind her and her scars were high in the air for everyone to view on her smooth arm. There was a detail on the dress he hadn't seen before, the material gathered behind her calves and a small broach was centered at the middle of the gathering of the fabric. The way the dress slid over her skin. . . gods, Hermione.

He forced himself to quit staring and pay more attention to making sure he didn't step on his mum's toes.

"Oh, it's so good they danced with them. What a horrible thing to say - 'honor a family member'," his mum spoke quietly so no one else would hear them as she noticed what direction he had been looking.

"I know," Ron said quietly, trying to move his lips as little as possible. "Thoughtless gits. The woman who helped Muggle-borns had lost her husband!"

"Well then, I'm glad the Weasleys were good substitutes," his mum smiled up at him.

Ron and his mum lapsed into silence and Ron noticed that George was saying something to Hermione and she was smiling softly at George. What exactly were they discussing, he wondered. And, for that matter, what had they discussed the other night? Hermione had only told them that George was drinking and stumbling around. . . He and his mum turned slowly on the spot, he wasn't going to risk any fancy moves when there were this many eyes on him.

As the song started to end, Ron saw multiple other couples walking out on the floor. A new song, slightly more upbeat, started up.

"Well, it's your time. I'll go to find your father, dear," his mum said up to him stepping back and smiling. "We've so very proud of you, Ronald Bilius." She said, dabbing at her eyes and walking over to Ron's family.

Ron turned to look for Hermione. He made eye contact with Neville and dipped his head at him in a silent greeting. He was still dancing with his Gran. Then he saw George, talking to Hermione who was turned to the side. Ron walked over to her and, steeling his nerves, he put his hand on her lower back against the black silk. As he touched her, she turned to look up at him and smiled brilliantly. She looked back at George.

"Thank you so much, George, really," she said up to him.

"Thank you, Hermy," he said, grinning and squeezed her arm significantly before he turned and walked toward a group of older Gryffindors.

Ron decided he would have to ask about that later. Hermy?

"Erm, will you dance with me, Hermione?" he asked her and wondered why he was still nervous asking her to dance after everything they'd been through and the recent levels they'd hit in their relationship.

She smirked up at him through her dark eyelashes. "You're asking this time?" she teased but she moved toward him and wrapped a small arm around his waist.

"Huh? Oh, er what'd you mean? What was last time?" He was confused about what she was talking about, yes. However, the real reason he asked was that he was trying to distract himself because the way they had come together to dance and brought his right hand to the bare skin of her creamy, smooth back.

"Oh," Hermione was blushing as she looked up at him, "the wedding. It was funny. I was kidding, that's all. . ."

"Hm," Ron remembered now. He'd rather ineloquently taken her to the dance floor to avoid Krum but he'd gotten to dance with her all night so it was hard to be sore about her teasing. Hopefully that ruddy pumpkin head wasn't here tonight. He looked around furtively, just in case.

As they swayed and turned slowly, Ron moved his hand up a bit higher on Hermione's back. His ring finger passed over a small raised area so he brushed the spot on her back with his finger again and realized it was a scar. He didn't want to upset her by asking or calling attention to any scars so he pushed his palm against her back firmly and brought her a bit closer so that with her height from her shoes her soft hair was brushing his jaw line.

As they danced wordlessly through several songs, Ron imagined all sorts of things. What would working for the Ministry be like? What would they start out doing? Would they rent one of the houses they'd found? He'd rather get the yellow house - so much more space - but he didn't want to be the one who made the decision. He felt like they'd all be happy there. They'd live on their own and he and Hermione wouldn't have to stop snogging when someone Apparated or came up the stairs . . . they were way too close for him to be thinking those kinds of thoughts so he looked around the room for something a bit less appealing to focus on for a bit.

Cameras flashed periodically and Ron noticed that Ginny in her emerald dress was dancing with Harry. They were both smiling and talking to each other. Well at least they'd made up officially - he'd have to keep a close eye on them though. And if they did get that house he couldn't have them snogging around every corner - that was his idea and they couldn't have it, he thought stubbornly. Neville was dancing with Hannah Abbott to the right of Harry. George was standing toward the corner with Percy and Ron saw that Katie Bell was standing beside them, holding a glass of what must have been mead. Mafalda Hopkirk was standing in a cluster of other witches and wizards and Kingsley stood in another crowd, nearer to the cameras.

Hermione's petite hand in his repositioned so that their fingers were laced together. He looked down at her. What if he didn't mess this up with her? What if his want to make Hermione into a Weasley actually happened? He was in love with her so what if he got to marry her? He'd thought about it off and on since . . . a long time. She looked beautiful, older than she usually did but still young and perfect. The way the silk slipped over the front of his dress robes and the way her back felt under his hand. . . She was smiling up at him and as she opened her mouth to speak she glanced over to the right -

Ron's eyes followed hers, there were more than a few cameras pointed at them.

"So what do you think -"

But before she could get the thought out of her ruby mouth an old wizard with salt and pepper hair and thick glasses like Trelawney's had shuffled to stand beside them with a quill and notepad in hand.

"Markumptus Parks," he introduced himself. "Sorry to interrupt but news never stops to dance. So all our male readers are dying to know, Miss Granger - are you spoken for? Seeing anyone special, dear?"

Ron stopped dancing and held his breath but didn't let go of Hermione who looked like someone had plunged her into a bucket of cold water.

"Um, yes," she said blushing.

"Seeing someone casually? Dating?" he asked, writing notes.

She glanced up at Ron and looked shy as she said, "dating," without taking her eyes off of Ron's. Her face had lit up and a pleasant pink had settled on her cheeks.

"And may I ask who this lucky man is, sweetheart?"

"Ronald Weasley," Ron spoke up and grinned at her even as his ears got hot.

"Oh! Congratulations! Both war heroes, both friends of Mr. Potters. Oh the papers! Oh the scoop I've got! You'll pose for a picture?" Mr. Parks said as Ron looked down at him. Parks looked like someone had told him he'd won the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.

Hermione nodded and Mr. Parks motioned for a man with a camera to snap their photo. Still holding each other Ron and Hermione smiled at the camera and then with Mr. Parks thanking them dramatically, they both turned back to the dance floor.

"Dating, hm?" he goaded even as he felt like he could jump up into the air and shout.

"Well? Aren't we?" Hermione looked up at him. She looked worried and flushed.

"That depends. Will you go out to dinner with me some night this week?" he asked her, jokingly.

"What? Yes. . ." she was starting to beam up at him as she figured his game out.

"Then yeah, we're dating," he said as he smiled down at her smugly. His Hermione in a bloody fantastic dress - and everyone would know it.


	13. Healing Scars and Late Night Visits

_. . . Chapter 13_

_. . .Healing Scars and Late Night Visits . . . _

* * *

Hermione walked over with Ron to stand to the side of the crowd. Wearing this dress had terrified her at the beginning of the day and while she had noticed a few people staring openly at her arm, Ron had felt the scars on her back and had pulled her closer. She wondered if he knew how much that one simple act had meant - the fact that he drew her nearer when he felt her scars. . .

She and Ron, now her boyfriend - she felt her heart constrict at the thought - had stopped dancing for a moment to grab drinks and while they took a break with their sparkling punch beside one of the fireplaces, Neville made his way over to them.

"Alright you two?" he asked, easily.

"Yeah we are. Heard you took a job at Hogwarts mate - congratulations," said Ron. Hermione wondered if he realized that he had said 'we' and spoken for her as well. He and she had been doing that fairly regularly since second year but it felt suddenly very enjoyably intimate.

"Yeah, just temporarily, probably. I've been thinking about becoming an Auror but I thought it over and maybe for the next year or so the reconstruction at Hogwarts is where I feel like I should be, you know?"

Hermione nodded and looked up at him. He looked decidedly better than he had just a couple weeks ago. He'd had a haircut, his cuts had healed, and he looked like he'd had a few square meals - a stark contrast to his experiences over the last year she figured. She turned away from Ron and Neville glanced around the room trying to catch a glimpse of Ginny. She couldn't spot her red hair anywhere so she turned slowly back to Neville and Ron, keeping her eyes over her shoulder for swish of green dress or her silky red strands.

"So, Hermione? Ron was just telling me you three are renting a house in Ottery St. Catchpole! That's brilliant! I'll be living in Hogsmeade while they finish repairing the castle - we'll all have to visit," Neville finished, excitedly.

Before she could speak up and agree with that, Neville got called away from them by a man with a camera so Hermione turned to face Ron. Even as distracted as he looked, he still looked so handsome. The way the dress robes hung on his shoulders and highlighted how much he'd filled out over the last couple years. . . Hermione noticed he was looking above her head. She turned to look around the rest of the room but couldn't find what he was looking for. He was looking around the room as if he expected someone to jump out and scare him.

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped when he had been ratcheting his head left to right for what she deemed as too long. "Your head will fall off if you keep wrenching your neck this way and that! What are you looking for?"

He jumped when she said his name and squared up his shoulders. "Just looking around, that's all." He picked up his punch and took a sip but just before he drank a bit of punch she thought she heard him mutter something that sounded an awful lot like "rumpkin bed".

She narrowed her eyes at him but she didn't want to cause a fight. They'd gone a while without a fight, now that she thought about it. She smiled a little at that it was so unlike them.

"And what're you smiling at exactly?" Ron asked, looking a little put out.

"No," she gazed up at him. "I mean, at us."

When he looked at her expectantly, she continued, "We're not fighting - haven't in weeks."

Ron nodded at her and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Guess not, huh? Well, look at us."

He reached down and took her hand and looked back out over the crowd and she felt her heart flutter elatedly at the feeling of his strong, large hand on hers. Hermione looked out with him and was glad to see Harry and Ginny dancing closely to the tune. Of course, she had known that Harry and Ginny had been on the mend and that they had decided to give it another go the morning she had crawled into Ron's bed - she colored when she thought about what they'd done that morning and wondered, getting redder still, if they'd get to repeat some of that tonight. Ginny would lay there in bed and they'd talk about the last year a bit but mostly Ginny talked about Harry and herself. It was nice, Hermione had thought as they had talked in the dark, to have a girl to talk to after the decidedly testosterone filled last year.

Ginny looked beautiful in her green dress. Ginny's dress was more revealing than hers but most of what Ginny wore was more immodest than her clothes. Ginny had rudely called Hermione a 'prude' when she had gone for a high necked, lavender dress and had pointed out that Hermione had worn lavender to Bill and Fleur's wedding so it was off limits.

Ginny had helped Hermione go through the racks of dresses and they'd decided black fit the occasion, especially because she would be accepting beside Ron and Harry who would be in black. Then they'd found this dress. Hermione had at first refused to try it on but Ginny gave some sort of horrendously on-point speech again and Hermione had given in. Mrs. Weasley had urged her to get it as well, telling her that it made her look "grown-up" and - what other word had she used? - "sophisticated."

She'd used the last of the Muggle money she had on it and she knew that this week she'd have to take her parent's will and claim their accounts before she got too busy with her new job and before school started up again.

"'Mione? 'Mione? Her-mi-o-ne!" Ron was waving his hand in front of her face and she paled, realizing she must have zoned out.

"Sorry! Just thinking!" Hermione said, embarrassed. "D'you want to dance?" She asked quickly so that he wouldn't ask her about what and they took to the dance floor just as the band announced solemnly that this would be the second to last song. They'd played slow, instrumental mostly songs all evening. While she would've liked something more upbeat, it made sense given the occasion.

"Well that was quick, yeah?" Ron asked as his hand brushed up her back to the spot where he had held her before.

"Yes, it was," Hermione said, a little disappointed. They'd hardly spoken to anyone besides Neville and the Weasleys and she missed Luna desperately. If Luna were here, Hermione would maybe even join her in her bizarre dancing for a laugh. It felt different between them after the way Luna had helped care for her at Shell Cottage a deeper connection had grown despite her fascination with mythical, nonexistent things. Then Ron leaned his head down a bit more so that his mouth was against her ear.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," he whispered against her ear. The soft blowing on her ear send a shiver down her spine. Her stomach turned over and she bit her lip to keep from grinning like a fool. She squeezed his hand tighter.

"Thank you, Ronald," she said softly back to him, with her face pressed into his shoulder. They danced together for most of that song until Hermione saw Dawlish motioning for them from between two of the large fireplaces.

"Ron," she whispered and tilted her head to indicate Dawlish. Ron didn't let go of her hand but started walking over to Dawlish quickly. Dawlish still made her feel uneasy, like he'd successfully played both sides and simply come up on the winning side by default.

"We need to leave early, avoid the rush and avoid any unnecessary threats," he said under his breath as he looked around nervously.

Hermione felt her heart speed up. What threats? Surely no one would attack this many people or threaten them with this many people around. . . Then again, they'd come to Bill and Fleur's wedding . . .

They followed quickly behind Dawlish and met up with the Weasleys and Harry and Parnell. They silently hurried out the door and Hermione felt Ron let go of her hand and put a hand tenderly on the skin of her back and stood pressed into her side, wrapping his other arm firmly around her waist so they could Disapparate. As tense as she felt, her nerves tingled at the sensation of his arms on her.

They all were at the Burrow after the familiar compressing, drowning feeling of Apparating. The fragrant grass at the Burrow welcomed them back and Hermione realized with a jolt how late it must be as she surveyed the dark landscape and the bright stars above. It seemed like the entire evening had taken place inside of two hours. They all walked silently with Dawlish and Parnell until they were inside the invisible barrier of the wards.

Hermione heard Ron's parents thanking the Aurors and offering them tea and she saw Harry and Ginny holding hands on the way into the house. Ron's grip on her waist tightened just a bit and Ron started forward with her to the house.

"What time is it?" she asked him, curiously. In the moonlight she saw his glance down at his watch he gotten for his seventeenth birthday.

"Just after twelve. Doesn't seem that late does it?" he asked her as they walked.

"No, it flew by. Oh - " she said as she stumbled and Ron kept her upright. She laughed weakly, trying to cover her embarrassment. This is why she didn't wear these ridiculous clothes! "Gravel and high heels don't mix."

"Yeah, you seemed a lot taller," he said as he looked down at her feet. Her shoes were still covered by the length of her dress, however.

As they walked in, Ron walked up the stairs behind her and she heard him distinctly let out a low breath. Her ego swelled a bit - maybe she didn't look ridiculous in these clothes even if they did seriously constrict her mobility. Hermione stopped at the door to Ginny's room where she could hear Ginny inside. She had hoped to be able to spend some time with Ron alone tonight but in the Weasley house - moments alone were proving few and far between.

She leaned up onto her toes to Ron to kiss him goodnight and she felt his hands go straight to her skin on her upper back. Hermione pressed both of her hands against the fabric covering his chest. As he kissed her a bit harder she let herself slide back down to standing on her whole foot. He broke away and gasped as she stood pressed hard against him from their chests to thighs. She realized how suggestive this position was and felt her entire body heat up. They were so close to each other and Hermione was struggling to come up with something - anything to say . . .

Ginny opened the door behind her and light flooded the stairs. "Hermione?"

"Yes, coming," she said to Ginny quickly. "Goodnight, Ron." She turned her back to him but before Ginny had shut the door, Hermione glanced over her shoulder and met Ron's eyes. His eyes mirrored what she knew hers must look like: they burned into hers. She hoped Ginny didn't notice how they'd been standing. She slipped out of her dress and into a pair of grey pajama shorts and a black tank top. She didn't go to the bathroom and remove her makeup because she was almost scared of how little she'd be able to hold back if she ran into Ron again. She turned toward the pale green wall beside her bed and put her back to Ginny as Ginny flicked out the light.

"Did you have fun Hermione? You looked gorgeous - forgot to tell you that," Ginny said, yawning significantly.

"Thanks, I did. Hey, so Ron and I talked - we're dating," Hermione said quietly in the darkness.

"Oh, Hermione I'm so glad! Then we did good on the dress, yeah?"

Hermione grinned at the wall in front of her. "Yeah."

"Well, goodnight," Ginny said in a sleepy, sing-song voice.

Hermione's mind was working in overdrive, she didn't think that there was any way she'd be able to go to sleep. She felt her stomach twist everytime she relived what position she and Ron had just been in in the hall and how big of a reaction he had had - staring after her from the darkened doorway. She'd always figured she wasn't the kind of girl to get swept away - she and Krum had shared a few snoggings but nothing as electrifying as the few she and Ron had had. She felt Crookshanks jump up onto her bed and settle at her feet.

She had been lying there awake for . . .well she didn't know how long exactly, Ginny had no clocks, when she heard Ginny get out of bed and tip toe out of the room. It must have been at least twenty minutes since they'd said goodnight. Hermione grinned. Ginny was sneaking out to meet Harry, she'd bet fifty Galleons on it. She stayed in bed for a minute more, laughing in her head at Ginny when she realized - there was no way that Ginny had gone to Ron's room. Harry had probably snuck out as well. . .She sat up in bed. Could she actually go to Ron? Should she? They'd get caught. But what if they didn't get caught and they got some proper snogging that was not done in a hallway? Her heart was racing. Was she actually going to do this? Sneak down a flight of stairs into Ron's room? He was her boyfriend now. . .

She swung her feet onto the floor in a rush of bravery and quietly left the room. She went down to Ron's door and pressed her ear against it. Nothing. She had thankfully remembered to bring her wand this time and recalled how loud the hinges typically were. She cast a charm on them and opened the door. Harry was most definitely not in his bed.

"Ronald?" she whispered at the dark form on Ron's bed.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" he exclaimed in a loud whisper and sat up in his bed. She noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt and bit her lip, feet freezing in place on the floor.

"Oh, I'm - I am, um - I'm sorry, I'll go," she stuttered but her feet were still planted and she couldn't drag her eyes off of him with the covers slipped low.

"S'ok, you just - the door usually creaks. You startled me is all," he said, looking around and noticing Harry wasn't there. "Where's - "

"He's talking to Ginny. Probably downstairs," she knew as she said it that it was only half true but she just wanted a little time so what was a white lie to a over protective big brother?

"Oh. You alright?" he said as he scooted over to make room for her beside him. "Dreams again?"

"No, I couldn't sleep," her heart was pounding in her ears as she sat facing him on top of comforter with her legs turned and hanging over the side.

Her eyes raked over his face that was lit by the moonlight filtering in through the thin curtain and she was suddenly very aware of how bright his eyes were in the half light. He was looking her over intently and she realized the amount of skin she had been showing earlier was nothing compared to this. She should have been scandalized but the way he was looking at her made her feel oddly confident. She leaned in and met his lips passionately.

His arms encircled her quickly and pulled her down on top of him. Her stomach flipped over at the highly personal act of laying on top of Ron in his bed. She repositioned her legs so that one was pressing against the outside of one of Ron's legs and her other leg was slung across his hips. His tongue entered her mouth and she responded by putting her hands on Ron's bare chest - the contact was exhilarating.

Timidly at first she pressed her tongue against Ron's. When he moaned against her mouth and tightened his arms around her, she rekindled that courageous, reckless feeling she'd had when she decided to go to his room. She felt a warmth building up in her and when he broke away from her mouth to kiss her neck softly she felt her chest tighten.

"Hermione," he breathed against her neck she leaned up to look down at him. He put both hands on her waist and pulled her up. She folded both her legs and found herself straddling his lap. She flushed at the closeness and took her weight of him so she was hovering above him on her knees.

She could see that he was eyeing her hungrily with heavily lidded eyes and she leaned forward to lay on him to kiss him deeply again. Because of their movements, Hermione felt her top ride up just a bit and the hot skin of her flat stomach met Ron's cooler skin. Ron practically hissed at that and put his hands on her lower back, working his fingers under the edge of the back of her shirt. She was trying to work a hand underneath his back, trying to bring him closer.

A scraping noise on the stairs made Hermione sit up quickly, someone - Harry or Ginny - was coming up the stairs. Her quick movement as she sat up on her knees again had made her grind against Ron's hips and he let his head fall back on the pillow, his hands still at her waist with a whispered "bloody hell."

She stood up quickly and smiled down at him. Soon they wouldn't have to secretly slip away to each other's rooms at night - they'd be just down an empty hall from one another. She felt wicked and excited and more than a little stirred as she whispered "goodnight, Ronald" and quickly slipped out of the room as he sighed "goodnight" in the darkness. She hurried back to Ginny's room, jumping in bed only a matter of seconds before Ginny returned.

That night, Hermione had dreams that had absolutely nothing to do with Greyback.


	14. Greyback and the Yellow House

_. . . Chapter 14 _

_. . . Greyback and the Yellow House . . . _

* * *

Ron had hurried to get ready that morning and he, Hermione, and Harry were walking through the lobby once again to have their morning meeting with Lenora, Parnell, and Percy. It seemed like Sunday had slipped through their fingers. Ron had listened to Hermione list the pros and cons of each house and not come to a conclusion about which they should get. He had seen with a great deal of satisfaction that the Daily Prophet had done a small column on page four about himself and Hermione - their photograph beamed at the camera and then they looked at each other excitedly - he had already cut that photograph out and saved it in a drawer at the bottom of his wardrobe but he'd never let on about that to anyone. It had rained a bit on Sunday but really - that was it. Blimey how does a day slip away like that?

Soon, they had arrived back at the Department of Mysteries for these bloody meetings. They were wearing him thin but he understood the reasoning. It didn't mean he had to enjoy them; however. Hermione smelled particularly wonderful as she walked beside him and Ron had been excited to see that she'd worn some tight fitting jeans that clung to her just right. Harry opened the door for the three of them and Ron clapped him on the back as he passed him. It hadn't escaped him that Harry was snogging his sister but Ron was remaining firmly planted on the position that Ginny behaved like a nun and he didn't have to worry about it.

"Good mornin'! You two looked better on Saturday! Hermione, you still look lovely," Parnell joked with them as they took to their magenta chairs. Ron saw Hermione smile at him and take a seat.

Ron knew they must be running a bit behind based on the fact that Parnell was already seated and Lenora looked testy.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, what will you be relaying to us today?"

Ron looked to Harry. Harry was leading these conferences which was one more thing he was anxious to be done with. Working with their separate Aurors and feeling like they were on an even field again, that'd be nice after this last year. . .

"We'd like to resume at where we were after the first meeting. When we were at Grimmauld Place," Harry said, matter-of-factly.

"Sure. Verbal testimony or -"

"Verbal," Harry said quickly.

Oh right, Lupin's visit and such, Harry had been a complete prat.

"Well, we all got to Grimmauld Place after the wedding and we were safe there for a while and then we realized that we'd be looking for a locket -" Harry started.

"and we realized the locket was something we'd seen before at Grimmauld Place - " Hermione piped up beside him.

Harry spoke again, "so we talked to Kreacher, Sirius' house elf, and he said that Mundungus Fletcher had taken the locket - "

"Which was Salazar Slytherin's locket - " Hermione helped explain.

The way they were finishing each other's sentences was putting Ron on edge and he had to bite back his feelings, he wished he had something in his hand to smash - he thought about his and Hermione's Saturday night for a distraction and was surprised at how quickly the jealousy faded when it was viewed through that particular lens.

"Mundungus Fletcher?" Parnell questioned.

"A scummy thief Dung is, always hanging around," Ron said quickly. Maybe if he got in on the sentences he wouldn't feel so put out with the Harry and Hermione show.

"He stole a bunch of Harry's things that Harry had inherited from Sirius, as well," added Hermione.

Parnell was nodding and wrote his name down.

"Well, I know he isn't no Death Eater but we could at least report it to the Enforcement Squad for you, yeah? Get him fined at least maybe even thrown back into Azkaban for a short bit - been once or twice, hasn't he?" Parnell said.

Ron nodded at him in the affirmative.

"Alright so Mr. Fletcher had the locket?" Lenora pressed, quill to parchment.

"Yes, it took Kreacher a while to track him down but Kreacher eventually came back with him. We found out that Mundungus had given it to Dolores Umbridge, who was working at the ministry at the time - as you know," Hermione added.

"Oh, but after a few days - when we first got there the Death Eaters had started trying to find the entrance into Grimmauld Place," Harry said. "And around that time, Remus Lupin came by and visited the house and we found out that the Ministry had been taken completely over. . . and what else?" Harry had looked around at Hermione.

"And also that Harry was being hunted under the pretense of questioning over Dumbledore's death, and that the majority of people were unaware of the exact conditions of Scrimgeour's 'resignation' - wasn't that what it was called?"

"Hm and also, the Muggle-born Register," Ron spoke and cut his eyes at Hermione to simultaneously glare at her for the finishing sentences thing and measure her reaction to the Register being brought up. "Muggle-borns were supposed to report for questioning and they had to have at least one Wizarding relative or else they'd be arrested or punished or worse. . . "

Ron saw Percy look stricken and write something down hurriedly and Ron wondered briefly what that had been about.

"Anyway, we started watching the Ministry entrance and planning," Harry started back on track with their testimony. "And then did you want to get those memories?" Harry asked and looked up at Lenora and gestured at the Pensieve.

"Actually, yes but not now. You see, Kingsley will want to meet with us - wants to strengthen the ministry, you know - and he's out of the office this morning. He could probably help us review those memories tomorrow if postponing this meeting works for you three?" Lenora flipped a bit of her silvery blond hair over her shoulder and smiled at them. She had brown eyes, Ron noticed, but not the same as Hermione's. Hermione's were dark, deep, and chocolaty but Lenora's were lighter with flecks of darker brown. Hermione's were nicer, he decided, glancing left at Hermione's profile. Was she wearing an earring? Something gold peaked out underneath her hair. He tried to recall everytime she'd worn earrings and couldn't remember many . . .

"Well! Until next," Lenora started to push back her chair. Thank Merlin these were more comfortable in this room than Kingsley's conference room.

Ron realized excitedly that they'd be getting to leave extremely early and maybe he could go to go visit George or better go out to lunch. Or best, find somewhere to snog Hermione in those bloody tight pants. . . Harry and Hermione were starting to prepare to leave.

Parnell leaned forward in his seat and pulled out a piece of parchment from his back pocket.

"Actually, sorry - quickly - just wanted to update you three and Percy on the Death Eaters we've come across so far as you've been helping with all of the collecting of names and evidence. Alecto and Amycus Carrow are both still at large and we've got Tucker trying to tail Alecto but we keep losing him. Yaxley died at Hogwarts from an unknown fighter. Rowle remains at large - no leads yet. Gibbon is believed to be hiding in a particular neighborhood in west London and we've got eyes on his place, just in case. . . Who else? Um, there's Bellatrix Lestrange who was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. And, Fenrir Greyback -"

Ron glanced over at Hermione who had her hands balled up in her lap and was perched on the very edge of her chair anxiously. Ron put his hand on Hermione's knee and squeezed her small leg in a show of comfort.

" - who is believed to still be actively attacking. Unbelievable, he is. Greyback seems to be unafraid of the turning tide. There's a muggle girl that we found on a information mission and Merlin it was bad. Girl was left for dead and died alone in an alley between a couple houses in Surrey. Girl didn't stand a chance - bloody terrible."

Lenora coughed at Parnell's use of language but Ron felt like he could kick him for practically handing Hermione her next round of nightmares. The idea that she still suffered from the manor was painful to contemplate and comments like that weren't going to get her to sleep any sounder.

"And lastly for today there is Dolohov who we think is still at large but we questioned Flitwick about him because he was the one last seen dueling Dolohov. Believe it or not Flitwick said he's 'taken care' of Dolohov - whatever that piece of gen means - so we're still trying to track him down. . . And I guess that's it for the Death Eaters we've come across so far," Parnell finished and folded the paper and put it back into his pocket.

"Well then, today we will cut it short. Thank you all and see you tomorrow!" Lenora blew out of the room.

Percy stood and announced "I'm going back to my office. See you all tomorrow." He nodded at Ron and Ron watched him go. He wondered if he and Percy would ever be able to talk the way he and Bill could talk. It always felt stilted and awkward with Percy. Hermione, Harry, and he stood up.

"Well! I'll head back to mine too. Harry, Ron - care to visit your offices?"

Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled glances. "Offices?" Harry asked.

"Oh sure! Kinglsey informed me that the three of you will be orienting around your offices today and tomorrow - he probably will owl you about it today - and LaFoe over in her department is expecting you, Hermione, to pop in next day or two. We'll put you with your Aurors today. Harry you're with me, if that's alright," Parnell said as he stood and made to leave the room.

Hermione stepped to nudge Ron's side with her hip and motioned for him to bend down.

"I'm nervous about this - shouldn't Kingsley have told us before?" she asked him quietly when he leaned down to her as Harry and Parnell talked in front of them and headed to the elevator. He just shrugged at her straightened. Would've been nice to get a heads up, he would've worn. . .well this was one of his nicer shirts but maybe he would've shaved this morning instead of deciding he could let the stubble be ok for the day.

Once they were in the elevator, Ron saw Parnell hit four and two. When the elevator stopped at level four, the steady female voice in the elevator announced "Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures".

Hermione stepped out looking nervous. As the gates on the elevator shut, Ron watched her turn her head left and then right then she was out of sight and Ron, Harry, and Parnell travelled up to level two, "Department of Magical Law Enforcement". The floor was a series of cubicles with fliers and pictures and articles littering every surface and witches and wizards talking loudly. Pictures of Bellatrix Lestrange, Mulciber, Rookwood, and countless others stared or yelled silently from their posters. Ron wondered distractedly if there had been pictures of Harry, himself, or Hermione on these walls and desks a few weeks ago.

They got to Parnell's desk - his name was in black letters on one of the walls of his cubicle. Pictures of the Carrows and Rookwood were affixed to the front wall of his cubicle along with numerous clippings and articles. But then beside those there was a pictures of a sort of round woman with black hair holding a small girl with dark brown hair the color of Parnell's. The woman and the child on her hip were grinning and swaying left to right while a white cat brushed against the woman's legs.

"Alright, Harry. Stick here. Ron, you're with Chalden Harding. Follow me," Parnell said and started walking again. Ron hadn't realized before how many Aurors there were working in the Ministry. A witch with a horrifically scarred face - worse than Bill's - with an eye patch was working at the desk beside his Aurors when they stopped at Harding's desk. Greyback stared back at Ron, teeth bared, from the front of what was apparently Harding's cubicle as well as a couple other people he didn't recognize.

If he got to go after Greyback then this was where he needed to be. He edged closer to Greyback's picture and noticed a list pinned beside it as Parnell turned and went back to his desk. The list was handwritten, sloppily.

_Known_ _Victims: _

_ Brian Montgomery - deceased_

_ Bill Weasley - injured_

_ Jessica Frank - tortured, injured_

_ Victoria Namil - deceased_

_ Ursula Dupree - tortured, injured_

_ Isla Warshane - deceased_

_ Lavender Brown - deceased_

_ Tristan Blesome - injured_

_ Lindsey Kellum - deceased_

_ Gia Gliani - deceased_

_ Theresa Jayce - deceased_

_ Olga Dietrick - tortured, injured_

_ Wayne Trone - injured_

_ Lane Latesick - deceased_

Lavender's name had jumped out at Ron and Ron felt immediately like he might be violently ill. How had he not known? At the funeral it must have been read . . . Come to think of it, he couldn't distinctly remember hearing anyone's name but Fred's. He felt tears well up in his eyes but he was in the middle of Auror offices - you can't cry in the middle of Auror offices, Ron, he thought. Instead he tried to channel everything into rage toward Greyback. Hermione's name wasn't on the list but Ron imagined what it would say - Hermione Granger - tortured, injured but how easily could that have said Hermione Granger - deceased . . . He felt the nauseous feeling rise up in his stomach again and glanced around the room.

"Ron?" a blond, curly haired Auror addressed him.

"Oh, yeah. That's me," Ron said, facing him head on. He was almost as tall as Ron and very muscular.

"Great! Nice to meet you, I'm Chalden Harding and you'll be with me," Harding stepped forward to shake Ron's hand. "Now, no offense intended here but as you did not go through the regular amount of training - which is fine - you'll be watching and learning more than the typical Auror in Training. If I take you out into the field - you're hands off until I say, yeah?"

"Ok," Ron said, nervously.

"And another thing, some of the training that we go through is actually very necessary - Basics of Magical Combat and Concealment and Disguise and of course Stealth and Tracking," Harding paused to open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a book so thick that it could have been one of Hermione's light reading books. Harding handed the book to Ron. "These are the lessons and guidelines along with some other rules and what have you from my training, I just finished about, let's see. . .six years ago now so if you have any questions or anything as you work through the material just let me know."

Ron nodded weakly. This was going to take a year at least to make it through. . .

"Oh and when you finish the material I've just given you - oh, don't worry, won't be for a while. Take your time and get to know it well - then you can start getting more responsibilities. As you master new pieces of the material I'll reevaluate and decide if you're field ready, yeah?"

"Yeah, ok," Ron said, trying not to look overwhelmed. Master materials?

Harding clapped him roughly on the shoulder and grinned. He motioned to his chair at his desk and looked back up at Ron. "Well, start reading. We're going out into the field today to try to get an eye on Crabbe - reckon you knew his son probably about the same age. You and Potter will stay and review - maybe you'll go out on our next information gathering visit. . . I'd start with the guidelines, if I were in your shoes - there's a contents page. . ."

And with that Harding turned on his heel and walked back toward the direction where Ron knew Parnell's desk was.

Ron read the guidelines which were pretty straight forward and started diving into the material on Auror office structure. What if Hermione had been on that list? There was a Chief Auror, Senior Aurors, Aurors, Junior Aurors, Aurors in Training. What if they hadn't gotten up the stairs at the manor in time? Somewhere between his constant 'what-ifs' Ron realized exactly how many steps he and Harry had gotten to skip. Three years, three years were what typical Auror training took . . . were they ready for this at all? Well Harding had said that getting all the way through the materials would take a while so maybe two years then. What if Greyback had done those horrible things to Hermione that he had been threatening to do? The hours ticked by and Ron felt like he was back in school as he thought about Hermione persistently and attempted to concentrate.

Finally, Ron shut the book loudly and looked back up at the list of Greyback's victims and stood. He wasn't focusing well enough to really absorb any information and - blimey - it was already a half hour until five. Ron walked to Parnell's desk and say Harry hovering over an identical looking book.

"Harry," Ron said.

"Hm?" Harry looked up, keeping his finger in place on the page.

"I'd like to leave - can't concentrate. Let's go."

"Ok," Harry shut his book and stood up, "we're back here tomorrow, Parnell told me, after Reviewing. He's on the Carrows' cases and Rookwood."

As they started to walk toward the elevator, Ron spoke up. "Harding is on Greyback's case and two others I didn't recognize names were Salter and Drimet. There was a list on his desk." Ron's voice had tapered off to a whisper. "Greyback killed Lavender."

Harry had stopped short beside Ron, a few feet from the elevator and turned to face him. His eyebrows were creased as he said, "yeah, Ron. I thought you knew."

"No," Ron shrugged feeling horrible. "I didn't hear anything. I feel like I should have . . ."

Harry put his arm around Ron in a friendly motion and they walked the remaining distance to the elevator.

"Was Hermione on the - " Harry started.

"No. I kept sitting there, imagining. . . We were so close to -" Ron couldn't form the words out loud.

"I know. But she's ok, we're ok and we've all got to make an effort to move on from all of it. From all of the last year," said Harry. Ron knew Harry was right but seeing that had reawakened all those feeling Ron had had at the manor and reminded him of how bruised and battered Hermione had been when they'd escaped by the skin of their teeth. He knew rationally that most of that had been Bellatrix's abuse but the threats Greyback had made and the mental images of the possibilities of their actions had stayed with Ron. He'd had the worst feeling when they were in that dungeon that he'd never see her again . . . that Greyback would take her - in every sense of the word - and he'd never see Hermione again.

A few minutes later they had Flooed to the Burrow and Ron decided he needed to find Hermione and just, just verify that she was alright. His could hear that his mum was in the kitchen so he stepped into that room from the living room.

"Mum is - oh that smells wonderful - is 'Mione here?" Ron asked, momentarily distracted by what looked like beef stew. He leaned a bit over the stove.

"Oh, she is. Returned an hour ago. I've got her in the garden, replanting." His mum said, stirring the large copper pot. "Good day I hope! Hermione met her boss - sounds like -"

"Yeah, mum. We'll about all of it later, ok?"

"Sure, Ronnie."

He hated to cut her off but he had to see Hermione and see for himself that she was alright. He knew he was being irrational. He stepped outside. The screen door announced his presence and he looked over to the garden. Hermione was standing near the flutterby bushes and had changed into some shorts since this morning and had smudges of dirt all over the back of her legs. Ron smiled at her and walked over to her just as she moved to wipe a bit of sweat off of her brow and turned toward him. Ron almost laughed when he saw her from the front. Dirt down her front, dirt on both arms and a bit of dirt on her face. She grinned at him when she saw him smiling and coming toward her.

"Replanting the muggle way?" he asked her, smirking.

"Yes, I like working outside. Anything else?" she was pretending to be cross, her arms folded in front of her with comical pink gardening gloves that she must have borrowed from his mum.

"You've got dirt on your nose - just there," he quoted her eleven year old self back at her.

She grinned at him and leaned forward so he would get it off of her face. He wiped the smudge away with his thumb.

He was suddenly struck by how impermanent everything was. They were eleven just a while ago - felt like ages. Hermione could have died. Why were they wasting any time they had now?

"Hermione," Ron said quickly. "I want to rent the yellow house, 'Mione. Let's get it and then we'll work in the backyard until it's as nice as the other house. Let's get the bigger house. Rent's basically the same and -"

"Ok," she said and looked up at him, shading her face with one of those hilarious gloves and smiling as she squinted.

"Ok?" No way was Hermione 'pros-and-cons' Granger agreeing to this.

"Yeah. Sounds wonderful," she was grinning.

"Great I'll speak to Harry and mum and I already talked so as soon as we talk to the landlord - we're set! We'll move into our own place - the three of us!"

She jumped forward to hug him excitedly, dirt going everywhere.

"Hey! This was a good shirt 'Mione!" Ron pushed her back off of him, peeved that his shirt was probably ruined. Sometimes for being so smart she could really piss him off by doing the dumbest things. He started to tell her so but then caught himself - this was the first time he'd been angry with her in weeks. He looked back down at her, his mood someone softened by that revelation.

Hermione picked up one of the flutterby leaves and threw it playfully at him.

Ron dodged it and was struck with an idea. "Here let me help you clean up." He pulled his wand out and pointed it down at her hands. When she had pulled the gloves off and put her dirty hands under his wand to be cleaned, Ron pointed the wand at her face - "Aguamenti."

Hermione shrieked, face dripping, and picked up a clod of dirt throwing it and missing Ron by a mile. He took off running behind a tree and grinned when he realized she was following. Ron recognized exactly how ridiculous their play was - seven year olds played like this but with the way Hermione was laughing and the way his face hurt from smiling he let himself enjoy a few minutes of complete lightheartedness as they horsed around - throwing and dodging and running.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Molly Weasley was standing at the kitchen window, watching her son fall deeper in love with the girl she hoped she'd one day be able to call a daughter.


	15. Lifts and Lows

_. . . Chapter 15_

_. . . Lifts and Lows . . . _

* * *

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her pink button down shirt and tapped her foot impatiently for Ron, Harry, and Mr. Weasley to come downstairs. She'd asked them over a delicious dinner last night to go with her to her parent's bank - well she had asked Ron and Harry and Mr. Weasley had volunteered. She had decided that it was time that she went through her parent's accounts, picked up their car, and saw what could be done about the house. There was no way she could step foot in there again but she wanted a few things - especially when they moved like her grandmother's old grand piano, the chair in the living room with the stained armrest from where her dad's coffee had spilled around Christmas one year. . . She'd have to go back. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and let out a heavy breath. She had paraded around in a tent all of last year and fought for her life on a daily basis. She could face a house no matter what had happened there.

Steps on the stairs alerted Hermione to someone behind her - sounded like Harry's shuffling scrape.

"Morning," Harry said quickly as he moved by her to the kitchen.

Hermione turned to watch him grab a handful of bacon off of the platter Mrs. Weasley had left out after breakfast. It was early but honestly couldn't Harry and Ron have eaten earlier? They were rushed as it was.

In a flash, Ron had come down the stairs, still pulling on his shirt over a white undershirt as he went. Hermione suppressed a smirk at him. His hair had gotten a little static in it from his shirt. He smoothed it down with his hand and smiled at her. She felt herself smile back at him with her glossy lips - she'd worn a bit more makeup today. Since the ball, she'd felt like wearing makeup more often and the luxury of having time to put some on in the mornings and the way it made her feel a bit older was something that could grow into a nice habit.

"Outside? Apparating to London, yes?" Mr. Weasley had snuck into the room while Hermione had been thinking.

"Oh, um yes. There's a branch of the bank they used there. We'll just speak with them about transferring everything." She remembered just then that they'd have to go invest their Order of Merlin award money at Gringotts - it couldn't keep sitting in the Weasley's "safe" that didn't exactly lock properly according to Ron. That'd be for tomorrow then.

She followed Mr. Weasley out into the yard under the cover of dreary clouds and she heard Ron and Harry's footsteps crunching on the gravel behind her. She had given Mr. Weasley the address and she saw him stop and put an arm out, looking at Harry. She felt a rush of a combination of embarrassment and happiness when she realized Mr. Weasley was kind of acknowledging her and Ron as a couple. She wondered as she grabbed Ron's arm whether or not he had told his parents they were officially dating but then with a discomforting realization she knew they would have seen it in the Prophet.

An instant later they were standing in an alley on the block with the bank. She looked up at Ron who was staring up at the brick walls around them. Probably apartments, Hermione thought. When a pop sounded near them and Harry and Mr. Weasley started over toward her Hermione headed for the street. They stepped out onto the sidewalk at Hawthorne Road and made a right, blending in with the people out on the street. Hermione glanced at the storefront windows to her right and saw her reflection looking back at her. She gasped when she realized how much her scars were visible with the way she had rolled her sleeves up. She fought back tears as she looked away from the reflection and hurried to unroll her sleeves. Maybe in the Wizarding world these scars could be explained but she couldn't very well get away with them here. She wondered briefly if the makeup she had bought for the ball would cover the word enough to make walking around comfortable. . .

"Hermione, isn't this it?" Harry spoke from behind her.

She looked up and realized she was passing under the sign for her parents' bank. Royal Trust and Bank was emblazoned in red on a blue sign. "Oh, right - yes this way." Hermione walked over to the revolving door of the Royal Trust and pushed hard on the golden handle. She looked through the thick glass of the door and saw a line of blurry people waiting on their turn to speak with a bank teller. When the cooler air of the bank wrapped around her, she heard Harry let out a curse behind her.

"Bloody hell, Mr. Weasley," Harry whispered and started walking back toward the door.

Ron was walking toward them as he looked around the white marble bank with a disappointed look on his face. Mr. Weasley was standing in one of the pie-shaped compartments in the revolving door looking at the glass bemused. Hermione grinned but then saw that the bank security was watching Mr. Weasley with narrowed eyes and suspicious expressions. She grabbed Ron's elbow and took him to stand in what appeared to be the shortest teller line of the four.

"Just magnificent! And I thought it was charmed to rotate on its own - Ron was pushing it, you said?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," Harry said in hushed tones.

"Brilliant!" Mr. Weasley said, still a bit too loud to fit in well. "So next we'll be going to your vault then, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced around quickly, uncomfortable. "No, no they will be handling it all. There's just one vault and it's for the whole bank. The money is kept track of electronically."

"Electronically?" Mr. Weasley repeated in awe as he looked around the lobby.

Hermione spotted an office with a closed door that said Bank Manager - Garret Flisk in a line with other doors that held various titles. Maybe they should hop out of line and go to the offices? Did tellers handle the transfer of accounts? She checked her pocket quickly for her parent's will and for the death certificate she had sent for from the funeral home in Godric's Hollow.

"Harry, wait here. I'm going to go check - " Hermione left her thought unfinished and headed over to the bank offices.

A secretary in a smart grey suit was sitting behind a large oak desk when Hermione approached.

"May I help you?" the secretary asked. Hermione felt irrationally jealous - the secretary was beautiful with wavy blond hair and large green eyes. She shook the feeling of insecurity away.

"Yes, my parents passed away and I was here to claim their -"

"Oh, sweetheart I'm sorry. The Account Manager will have to help you. Let me call him - sit down, please."

Hermione sat in one of the uncomfortable grey and black checked chairs and looked over at Harry and motioned for them to come to where she was. Harry stepped out of line and Hermione watched Ron follow quickly. Mr. Weasley was edging closer to the Muggles in front of him, however, and Ron had to turn back to get his attention.

"Hi, Wava? We have someone out here who needs to assume her parents' funds. . . right, yes . . .you can take her now?" Hermione looked up at the beautiful woman was nodding at her as Ron, Harry, and Mr. Weasley joined her. "Alright, I'll send her in," she said as she hung up the black phone receiver and motioned to the line of doors. "Account Manager - Wava Smith."

Hermione stood and walked to the Account Manager's office with her companions in tow. Before she could get to the door a tall woman with dark straight hair had opened the door for an instant Hermione thought she could have been Susan Bones' mother - their faces were identical even if their hair was wildly different.

Wava Smith motioned them into her office with a small smile and Hermione took a seat in one of the scratchy chairs and saw Harry sit in the one beside her.

"Sorry, all. Only two chairs but we'll manage, yes?" Wava spoke in a gravelly voice. She must smoke, Hermione thought but couldn't smell any of the odor lingering when she considered it. "So we're here for your parents' accounts, miss?"

"Yes, Walden and Melinda Granger," Hermione said and scooted forward in her seat. She drew the papers she had folded in her front pocket out and wished she had used a folder. She hadn't thought about creasing them at all because she'd usually just a charm to flatten them. She lifted them up, unsure of where to put them - on the desk? hand them to her?

Wava looked away from the computer in front of her and took the papers, flashing a pleasant look at Hermione.

"So we'll be transferring it all into your name? Withdrawing? How did you want to proceed?" Wava rasped. Her harsh voice put Hermione on edge even though she was a soft and agreeable looking woman.

"Just transferring and then I had questions about the house -"

"Oh they paid the house off long ago if that's your concern" Wava said, clicking her nails on the keys of the keyboard.

"Oh, no, that's not what . . . I was wondering how to sell it if it's been heavily damaged." Hermione saw her stop typing and looked down at the pink cuffs of her shirt now firmly buttoned around her wrists.

"Well, there are investors that buy houses that have been damaged - fire, flood and the like, you know - and you can usually find them in the phonebook. But because their house was already paid off, the bank doesn't have any claim on it anymore . . ." Wava finished speaking and started typing furiously.

Hermione's shoulders sagged. One more thing to add to the list them. Move the things she wanted out of that house and into their new house - Ron had spoken to the landlord, a sweet Squib woman named Sabine Cadlebyer and it would be ready Saturday - pick up her parent's car - Merlin's beard she'd have to get a driver's license - call an investor to buy the house. Her thoughts were so disorganized. Everything had five things that went with it. She felt Ron's hand press on her right shoulder and she looked up behind her. He looked very serious and supportive but she saw Mr. Weasley gazing in wonder at the computer and she smiled a bit. This was hard but she had help, plenty of it.

Suddenly the sound of the printer coming to life on the desk behind Wava interrupted Hermione's thoughts.

"Alright, Miss Granger. Here are the papers showing we've transferred all the funds into your name - checking, savings, retirement accounts, and your parent's business funds. The business, you'll probably want to call other dentists in the area and let them buy the practice from them if -"

"They sold it last summer," Hermione explained quickly. Her parents had apparently sold it to pay for their trip that they never got to take so at least that was one less thing to add to the list. Hermione felt her face heat up and shame bubbled up in her stomach. What a horrible thing to think.

"Well, then you're done here and," Wava rose from her seat and moved around the table, "good luck with everything Miss Granger." She reached out and shook Hermione's hand. She had a limp handshake, Hermione hated when women did that. It always made women seem silly and unsure of themselves to have a limp handshake.

"Thank you," Hermione said, following Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Harry out into the marble lobby again. A large, ornate clock hung high in the lobby showed that it was already three minutes until nine. "Oh shoot! We've got to hurry!"

They quickly made their way back down the sidewalk and into the alley where they had been. A homeless man was sleeping in the alley when they returned and Hermione realized that he may have even been there early. Ron was looking at the man and seemed unsure of whether they should Disapparate or not.

"No time to worry, let's go - quickly," she whispered to Ron and took his arm.

Five minutes after nine the three of them rushed into the conference room at the Department of Mysteries. Lenora was tapping her wand on the table impatiently and Percy looked irritated. Parnell looked perfectly content; however, and Hermione was glad that at least he smiled at them kindly when they came in.

"Sorry, we got held up at the Muggle bank," Hermione explained sheepishly, hoping her face wasn't as pink as it felt.

"Oh that's fine, Kingsley is late too. Can't start it without the big man today but you three could go ahead and drop in your memories of the day you all came to the Ministry," Parnell said loudly, although for him it was probably just his everyday voice. Hermione realized how horrible it would've been to hear him yelling. They'd all go deaf.

She, Ron, and Harry all moved forward and dropped their silvery memories into the Pensieve in front of a slightly placated Lenora. Maybe blaming the late meeting on the Minister had helped Lenora's feelings, Hermione mused.

Before they could all take their seats, Kingsley had appeared at the door in billowing lime colored robes.

"Sorry, emergency meeting with the goblins at Gringotts. Unsettled, all of them, and I've spoken with LaFoe about it and . . .well, another time, then. We're ready?" he asked, addressing the room.

Collectively, everyone stood and leaned in to the first memory of the three, Harry's.

Suddenly the Reviewers were standing out front of Grimmauld Place watching Hermione and Ron Disapparate with a pop. Harry was standing on the front step with two Death Eaters watching from across the way. Then with a pop Hermione saw herself come back to the step beside Harry and the Reviewers stood through the Apparation into a small alley. Hermione realized exactly how much of her time had been in alleys lately and frowned.

_"Right then. She ought to be here in about five minutes. When I've Stunned her -" Hermione said._

_"Hermione, we know. And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?" Ron said and Hermione shrieked._

_"I nearly forgot! Stand back -"_

Hermione peered into the darkened doorway that she had just watched herself blast open wordlessly. She'd thought so seriously about jumping in that doorway and hiding the day of their break in to the ministry . . . She looked over at herself just as she was disappearing under the Cloak that Ron had thrown. She saw him rolling his eyes at Harry and she turned to face the Ron beside her and narrowed her eyes at him. He at least had the sense to look abashed.

A pop announced Mafalda's arrival and a flash of red light appeared from where Hermione knew she had been standing.

_"Nicely don, Hermione," Ron said. _

They watched Mafalda be taken into the park passageway and pull a few hairs from her head. They were just going through her handbag when she heard Kingsley clear his throat. She turned around to him and Ron's voice from the memory faded into the background.

"Percy, we need to see if Mafalda remembers this and if so - issue an apology like we did to the Muggle-born witches and wizards in the Prophet today, yes?" Kingsley said to Percy who nodded emphatically and wrote a note down.

Hermione felt a twinge of guilt and turned back to see herself putting on Mafalda's glasses and Harry and Ron disappearing under the Cloak.

_"Oh, hello, Mafalda." _

_"Hello! How are you today?" Hermione said._

_"No so good, actually," the small wizard said looking ill._

_"I'm sorry to hear you're under the weather," Hermione said quickly. "Here, have a sweet."_

Hermione grinned at the memory. They should have just Stunned him instead but had been Ron's idea to not have more bodies piled up in the alley.

_"Eh? Oh, no thanks-"_

_"I insist!" Hermione said, brandishing the bag of Puking Pastilles in the wizard's face and the wizard took one out of sheer pressure. _

Hermione felt sick watching the wizard get sick so she looked around at Kingsley whose face was blank and Percy who looked stricken. Ron was standing beside Harry and whispering and both of them were grinning and watching her talk to the vomiting wizard. She made eye contact with Harry and smiled at him, shook her head and turned back to the memory as she heard him Disapparate.

_"Urgh! It would have made much less mess to Stun him too." _

_"Yeah, but I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on his job, though isn't he? Chuck us the hair and the potion, then."_

Then the Reviewers were watching Mafalda and Cattermole talk about why Cattermole had on different robes. Hermione did still feel guilty that it had been the date of his wife's hearing but there was no way they could have known.

_"Now wait here, and we'll be back with some hairs for you," Hermione said and she and Ron turned and left him in the alleyway._

Time seemed to speed up like fast-forwarding a video tape and Hermione looked around at Harry beside Ron.

"I tried to leave this part out because it's ten minutes of me standing there, you know?" Harry said, looking over at Lenora who had paused her incessant note taking.

Hermione nodded and watched the alleyway until suddenly she and Ron were back and time slowed to normal.

_"We don't know who he is, but he's gone home with a dreadful nosebleed! Here, he's pretty tall, you'll need bigger robes . . ."_

In a few moments, Harry had sprouted upward and had a beard.

_"Blimey, that's scary" Ron said, looking up at a towering Harry. _

_"Take one of Mafalda's tokens and let's go, it's nearly nine," Hermione said hurriedly. _

The Reviewers followed them through the alleyway and they split up. Hermione remembered that she had started her memory from the time she had been left by Harry in the lift. Should she have started it here? No they had stayed together until the elevators - right? Hadn't they?

As the Reviewers floated on their invisible platform through the memory and into the men's toilet Hermione mentally went over her list again - her parents' car. She'd need a driving license. She'd have to go to a Muggle office for the Department of Transportation. Would she pass a driving test though? She's only driven a car once out in the country on holiday with her parents and she had been what, thirteen, at the time? Less than thirteen, almost thirteen? It didn't matter, they were suddenly in the Atrium of the Ministry.

_"Out of the way, can't y- oh sorry, Runcorn!" _

_"Psst!" Hermione gestured wildly at Harry. _

Hermione didn't look at the tower and tuned out the voices of the three of them as they realized what the statue actually depicted. She took time instead to walk over to where Harry and Ron were standing. Both of them eased apart a bit and she moved to stand between them. It felt. . . not safer exactly but nice and familiar to be standing beside each other. The platform moved and Hermione was so exhausted of the memories that she just stood still at let it move her and smirked a bit when Ron and Harry did the same. It was going to be nice to have these over with. Reliving the past year in a few weeks time wasn't exactly the way she had envisioned spending time after the last year.

_"Cattermole!"_

The Reviewers saw Yaxley striding toward them.

_"I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It's still raining in there," Yaxley said, roughly._

_"Raining . . . in your office? That's - that's not good is it?" Ron said with a weak, nervous laugh._

_"You think it's funny, Cattermole, do you?"_

_"No, no, of course -"_

_"You realize that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pureblood next time."_

_Hermione squeaked and then tried to cover her noise with a cough, turning away from Yaxley._

Thank the heavens that that horrid murder was dead, Hermione thought coldly. She raised her head a bit and squared her shoulders and refused to feel an ounce of remorse for that thought.

_"I - I - "_

_"But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood - not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth - and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?"_

_"Yes," Ron whispered._

_"Then attended to it, Cattermole, and if my office is not completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status will be in even graver doubt than it is now." _

Then the Reviewer's invisible platform moved into the lift with the Polyjuiced Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

_"What am I going to do? If I don't turn up, my wife - I mean, Cattermole's wife -" Ron said, upset._

_"We'll come with you, we should stick together -" _

_"That's mental, we haven't got much time. You two find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office - but how do I stop it raining?"_

_"Try Finite Incantatem, that should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse; if it doesn't, something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervious to protect his belongings -" Hermione rattled off._

_"Say it again, slowly -" Ron said._

_"Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." _

Hermione was at her floor. She'd gone to her office just yesterday and met Tarin LaFoe and seen her desk. She was surprised to have her own desk actually, just starting out -

A whiskered man stepped onto the lift with the Reviewers and the three.

_"Morning, Albert. Dirk Cresswell, eh? From Goblin Liaison? Nice one, Albert. I'm pretty confident I'll get his job now!"_

_"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement."_

So now they were at Harry's and Ron's floor . . . Hermione watched Mafalda push Cattermole out of the lift. Then Mafalda turned, visibly torn, to Runcorn.

_"Actually, Harry, I think I'd better go after him, I don't think he knows what he's doing and if he gets caught the whole thing -"_

_"Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff."_

Hermione felt Ron take a step away from her as they watched the doors open to reveal Umbridge and a group of wizards. Excellent, he was mad at something she'd done practically a lifetime ago. She had just been worried, that's all . . . she crossed her arms and studied the scene with a renewed interest.

_"Ah, Mafalda! Travers sent you, did he?" Umbridge said, brightly._

_"Y-yes," Hermione said back._

_"Good, you'll do perfectly well. That's that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway. Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut . . . even here, in the heart of the Ministry," Umbridge moved into the lift. "We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?"_

_"Yes, of course," Harry said and stepped out of the lift._

Hermione fiddled with the cuff of her shirt anxiously as Harry moved onto the floor. She felt that feeling of terror wash over her as Umbridge had spoken. She would've been killed if Umbridge figured out who she had been walking with a Mudblood friend of Harry Potter's. . .

_"What brings you up here, Runcorn?"_

_"Needed a quick word with, Arthur Weasley. Someone said he was up on level one," Harry said quickly._

_"Ah, has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable?"_

_"No. No, nothing like that," Harry said._

That was a risky move, Hermione thought, mentioning the Weasleys. Even if he was one of Them in the Polyjuice, it wasn't the brightest move.

_"Ah, well. It's only a matter of time. If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn," Thicknesse said._

_"Good day, Minister."_

The Reviewers watched Harry check around him and then hastily through the Invisibility Cloak over himself. The undetectable platform moved forward and followed the invisible Harry-Runcorn. They passed a series of wooden doors with names, one after the other. Finally, they stopped and Hermione looked around - well they weren't anywhere. They were just in the corridor, stopped. Hermione looked over her shoulder at Harry just as they started moving again. They came into a large space where school-like desks were aligned in a grid. Hermione realized immediately that they were putting together booklets. The Reviewers got closer to the desks and saw the golden word - "MUDBLOODS." Hermione stepped back, not wanting to read it.

_"Will the old hag be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know?" a young witch asked._

_"Careful," a man spoke up._

_"What, has she got magic ears as well as an eye, now?" _

The Reviewers looked where the young witch's eyes had led. Moody's eye was set in the wood door. As they approached the door, presumably behind Harry. Umbridge's title swam into view.

At Hermione's feet a moment later, a Decoy Detonator scuttled by quickly and in just a split second a loud bang and thick black smoke came from a corner. Then the Reviewers were all in Umbridge's office - lace, cats, flowers - it was sickening.

_"Accio Locket," Harry whispered. _

The Reviewers platform had stopped moving now that they were in the office so Hermione moved forward when she was a filing cabinet open. Then a file floated up in the air before them - 'Arthur Weasley'. She glanced at Ron as he came closer to the cabinet. They read quickly 'TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Strong likelihood Undesirable No.1 will contact (has stayed with Weasley family previously)'

Hermione felt Ron get a bit closer to the file as if more information would pop onto the paper. Then the file was put away and Hermione saw vases being up-ended and dried flowers being strung about and then put back. Then the door opened and as Thicknesse left a note for Umbridge the platform took the Reviewers back into the corridor.

_"I bet it sneaked up here from Experimental Charms, they're so careless, remember that poisonous duck?"_

The Reviewers moved quickly, too quickly to be walking so Harry must have been running. Then they were back in the lift with Runcorn, Harry had taken off his Cloak while the grille was closed. When they stopped at Level two a dripping Cattermole stepped in.

_"M-morning," Ron said._

_"Ron, it's me, Harry!"_

_"Harry, Blimey, I forgot what you looked like - why isn't Hermione with you?"_

_"She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge, she couldn't refuse, and -"_

Then the doors opened and Mr. Weasley walked inside with an elderly witch.

_". . .I quite understand what you're saying, Wakanda, but I'm afraid I cannot be party to -"_

Mr. Weasley was glaring at Harry and then turned to Ron.

_"Oh, hello, Reg. Isn't your wife in for questioning today? Er - what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?" Mr. Weasley asked._

_"Yaxley's office is raining. I couldn't stop it, so they've sent me to get Bernie - Pillsworth, I think they said - " Ron said looking everywhere but his father._

_"Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately. Did you try Meteolojinx Recanto? It worked for Bletchley," offered Mr. Weasley. _

_"Meteolojinx Recanto? No, I didn't. Thanks, D - I mean, thanks, Arthur."_

When the lift opened Ron sped off and the older witch stepped out as well. Then Percy Weasley came into the lift, looking at his papers. The very next time the lift stopped, Percy scurried off. Hermione resisted the urge to turn around to look at the Percy also in this lift. She was sure he would be embarrassed - what a horrible way to act! - so she didn't want to exacerbate it by turning to him now.

_"One moment, Runcorn. . . I hear you laid information about Dirk Cresswell."_

_"Sorry?" _

_"Don't pretend, Runcorn. You tracked down the wizard who faked his family tree, didn't you?"_

_"I - so what if I did?"_

_"So Dirk Cresswell is ten times the wizard you are and if he survives Azkaban, you'll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends -"_

_"Arthur, you know you're being tracked, don't you?"_

_"Is that a threat, Runcorn?"_

_"No, it's a fact! They're watching your every move -"_

Hermione wondered if Mr. Weasley knew yet that it had been Harry that day that had warned him . . . When Mr. Weasley got off of the lift, Harry threw the Cloak back over himself and they went to the Department of Mysteries. Hermione was getting sick of being on her feet. How long had they been in this memory anyway?

The Reviewers followed the invisible Harry and found the Muggle-borns awaiting trial huddled and shivering on benches then as they passed them a door was thrown open.

_"No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you - get your hands off me, get your hands off - "_

Hermione felt a chill that had nothing to do with their surroundings. She remembered this, he'd had tears running down his face and Hermione had sat there swallowing back fear, everything she believed about equality and fairness, and tears and watched him get taken away.

_"This is your final warning. If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss. . . Take him away."_

Hermione looked around at the wizard being carried off by the dementors. Then Umbridge's voice trickled out to them.

_"Next - Mary Cattermole."_

A woman about Hermione's height stood near her and she made eye contact with Percy over Mrs. Cattermole's head as he put a hand to his mouth in dismay as he viewed the scene. Then the Reviewers were towed into the courtroom. More dementors swam into view as they came into the room behind Harry under his Cloak. She saw herself, well - Mafalda, sitting beside Umbridge looking sick.

_"Sit down. . .You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?" _

Hermione watched the silver cat prancing back and forth rather than look into the face of the shaking Mrs. Cattermole.

_"Married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?"_

_"I don't know where he is, he was supposed to meet me here!"_

_"Mother to Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred Cattermole?"_

_"They're frightened, they think I might not come home -"_

_"Spare us, the brats of Mudbloods do not stir our sympathies," Yaxley spoke for the first time in the courtroom._

The cat pranced beautifully and the volume of the sobs picked up. Hermione was glad she had stopped her memory at the beginning of Mrs. Cattermole's testimony since Harry had been with her after that. So really her memory was just the trial of Arnold Alderton so thank the heavens they would only have to relive a bit more of these trials. Hermione felt her stomach turn as she glanced up against her will at Mrs. Cattermole. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw herself jump violently - Harry must have come up behind her then.

_"A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole. Eight-and-three-quarters inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize that description?"_

As Mrs. Cattermole nodded Hermione fingered the twelve-and-three-quarters walnut wand tucked in her pocket. She still hated using the wand because of its previous owner but it seemed to have sensed that she had died. After the battle the wand's allegiance had seemed to switch and the wand behaved like it was her own but she hated the idea that this wand had inflicted so much damage and pain. . .

_"Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?"_

_"T-took? I didn't take it from anybody. I b-bought it when I was eleven years old. It - it - it chose me," Mrs. Cattermole said, erupting into tears._

Then Umbridge leaned forward and the locked swung into view.

_"No. No, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here- Mafalda, pass them to me."_

_"That's - that's pretty, Dolores," Hermione said and pointed at the locket._

_"What? Oh yes - an old family heirloom. The S Stands for Selwyn. . . I am related to the Selwyns . . . Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related . . . A pity that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents' professions: greengrocers'"_

Hermione wondered two things at once. How quickly would Umbridge have had her hauled to Azkaban if she had known she was sitting next to a Mudblood daughter of dentists and did the locket have any negative effects on Umbridge or was she always evil enough that it didn't matter? She saw Ron staring intently at the locket and wondered if he was thinking the same. It, the locket, had had a particularly bad effect on Ron compared to her and Harry. . .

_"Stupefy!" _

Umbridge fell and Mrs. Cattermole's papers flew. Yaxley looked around frantically.

_"Stupefy!"_

Yaxley fell as well.

_"Harry!"_

_"Hermione, if you think I'm going to sit here and let her pretend -"_

_"Harry, Mrs. Cattermole!"_

Dementors were closing in and Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, reaching her fingers toward her spine as Harry cast his Patronus.

_"Get the Horcrux."_

_"You? But - but Reg said you were the one who submitted my name for questioning!"_

_"Did I?" Harry-Runcorn asked. "Well, I've had a change of heart. Diffindo! Hermione, how do I get rid of these chains?"_

_"Wait, I'm trying something up here - "_

_"Hermione, we're surrounded by dementors!"_

_"I know that, Harry but if she wakes up and the locket's gone - I need to duplicate it - Geminio! There . . . That should fool her. . . Let's see . . . Relashio!"_

_"I don't understand," Mrs. Cattermole said, bewildered._

_"You're going to leave here with us. Go home, grab your children, and get out, get out of the country if you've got to. Disguise yourselves and run. You've seen how it is, you won't get anything like a fair hearing here."_

_"Harry, how are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside the door?"_

_"Patronuses, as many as we can muster; do yours, Hermione."_

_"Expec- Expecto patronum."_

Nothing. That spell always gave her so much difficulty. She heart Harry explaining that fact to Mrs. Cattermole as she turned to look at Ron, who had moved over to spy on what Percy was writing, standing directly behind Percy. Even in this tense environment of the memory, Hermione gave a small smirk . . . typical. Her otter bounced by.

_"C'mon. . . It's been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families. Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That's the - er - new official position. Now, if you'll just follow the Patronuses, you'll be able to leave from the Atrium."_

The Reviewers tagged along behind Runcorn, Mafalda, and Mrs. Cattermole when Ron appeared at the lift.

_"Reg! Runcorn let me out, he attacked Umbridge and Yaxley and he's told us all of us to leave the country, I think we'd better do it, Reg, I really do, let's hurry home and fetch the children and - why are you so wet?"_

_"Water. Harry, they know there are intruders inside the Ministry, something about a hole in Umbridge's office door, I reckon we've got five minutes if that - "_

The bouncing otter disappeared.

_"Harry, if we're trapped here - "_

Hermione had stopped herself the day of but she would have finished you'll be killed and Ron and I will be thrown into Azkaban in the best case scenario. She shivered at the thought.

_"We won't be if we move fast. . . Who's got wands?" Harry watched those that did raise their hands. "Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on."_

The lift was completely full and the Reviewers were standing on and through the people who had been awaiting trial.

_"Level eight. Atrium."_

Witches and wizards were hurrying to close the Floo.

_"Harry! What are we going to - ?"_

_"STOP! Follow me," Harry yelled and then whispered._

_"What's up, Albert?" _

_"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits."_

_"We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone - "_

_"Are you contradicting me? Would you like me to have your family tree examined like I had Dirk Cresswell's?"_

Hermione felt her heart racing and felt completely irrational, after all she knew that they got out of this ok. Reliving these memories was . . . for once Hermione struggled to put something into words.

_"Sorry! I didn't mean nothing, Albert, but I thought . . . I thought they were in for questioning and . . . " _

_" Their blood is pure. Purer than many of yours, I daresay. Off you go."_

Hermione let out a small breath of relief when the Muggle-born group got into the fireplaces and left.

_"Mary!" _

Mr. Cattermole was running out of the lifts.

_"R-Reg?"_

Hermione heard the Ron-Cattermole swear.

_"Hey - what's going on? What is this?"_

_"Seal the exit! SEAL IT!"_

Yaxley was rushing toward the scene and Harry-Runcorn punched the wizard he had just threatened.

_"He's been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!" _

The false Cattermole disappeared with Mrs. Cattermole into the fireplace nearest them and Hermione turned to Harry who she knew was about to grab her hand.

_"Come on!" _

_"Reg, I don't understand -" _

They were in the toilet and rushed out to meet Ron.

_"Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!"_

_"LET'S GO!" _

Hermione watched Harry and Ron and herself grab hands and then they twisted and warped around them and the Reviewers came into vivid focus around her for a split second. Kinglsey looked troubled - she'd never seen him show this much emotion.

Then suddenly the twisting forms around them stopped at they were at the door of Grimmauld Place. Hermione cringed as the Apparation happened around them again.

They landed in the middle of a beautiful clearing that clashed dreadfully with Ron's horrific injury, blood splattered across the leaves.

The memory went black and they were back in the lift. Was this her memory or Ron's then?

Ron was whispering to Hermione about the spells that he should try in Yaxley's office. Then Ron was shoved forward and the Reviewers stepped out at Level two. Ron's memory.

Ron began walking down a corridor lined with dark wood paneling and office doors similar to those they had seen earlier in Harry's memory passed the Reviewers in a pattern. Ron was clutching the sheet of paper, crumpling it in his hand and swallowing hard. Ron stepped further along the corridor passing a few wizards carrying cases of files and Hermione heard the squish of wet carpet. She looked down and the carpet had changed into a deeper color - so they were close to Yaxley's office.

Hermione shifted her weight from one leg to the other. How long had this been going on, already? A wave of impatience hit her as Yaxley's name appeared on an office door with water visibly pouring out from under the office door. She looked to her left at the people working in the cubicles, they hadn't even looked up from their work at Ron coming down the corridor. Posters of Harry were visible throughout the space and Hermione felt her blood boil.

Looking up from his instructions and away from the door he was about to go into, Ron glanced at the people Hermione had been studying and she followed his eyes. A picture of herself and another picture of Ron were pinned beside pictures of Neville, Luna and Ginny. The group of students that had been known to break into the Ministry in fifth year. . .

Cattermole's eyes bugged and he gritted his teeth, turning back to the office and opening the door quickly. Inside the office water dripped from the exposed wood beams above the desk and from the plaster ceiling as well. Ron shut the door behind himself and leaned against it.

_"Bloody hell."_

Another one of the posters of Harry was fixed to the wall in this office, Hermione noticed. They had been insane to go into the Ministry. It had been like going into a Death Eater meeting with Voldemort and taunting him. Reckless.

Ron moved forward and took out his willow wand. Hermione realized with a jolt that it wasn't the wand she had seen him with just yesterday. He's lost his to the snatchers too, hadn't he?

_"Finite Incantatem!"_

A clap of thunder answered Ron and the rain kept coming. Ron moved to quickly cast an Impervius on all of Yaxley's belongings, he scurried around the room picking up one item at a time. Ron picked up a sheet of paper that had ink running on it and looked at it, puzzling.

_"Exaresco?" _

The paper was instantly dry but the rain continued from above so Ron let out a distinctive swear and Hermione turned to look at the Ron that looked like Ron. He was turned whispering something Harry and Hermione felt slightly left out especially with how he had acted earlier when she'd doubted his ability to stop the raining office.

Cattermole twirled the willow wand in his hand and let out a deep sigh, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

_"Bloody hell!"_

Cattermole-Ron moved to the door and stepped out. A witch who had a large mole on her cheek but was otherwise very pretty looked up at him.

_"Any luck then, Reginald?"_

_"Oh, urm not really. Imperviused his stuff but not really anything . . ." Ron tapered off._

_"Well I know that Pillsworth, Bernie, you know him I'm sure, he got it to quit in Bletchley's office somehow," she suggested helpfully._

_"Oh right, thanks," Ron said, turning on his heel toward the lift._

The Reviewers went back to the lift, following along behind Ron who was clenching and unclenching his left hand, Hermione noticed.

_"M-morning," Ron said._

_"Ron, it's me, Harry!"_

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. Surely this would be the only highly repetitive day. And anyway, they'd gotten to leave early yesterday right?

_"Harry, Blimey, I forgot what you looked like - why isn't Hermione with you?"_

_"She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge, she couldn't refuse, and -"_

Then the doors opened and Hermione watched Mr. Weasley and the elderly witch walk in again.

_". . .I quite understand what you're saying, Wakanda, but I'm afraid I cannot be party to -"_

Mr. Weasley resumed the familiar glaring at Harry.

_"Oh, hello, Reg. Isn't your wife in for questioning today? Er - what's happened to you? Why are you so wet?" Mr. Weasley asked._

_"Yaxley's office is raining. I couldn't stop it, so they've sent me to get Bernie - Pillsworth, I think they said - " Ron said looking everywhere but his father._

_"Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately. Did you try Meteolojinx Recanto? It worked for Bletchley," offered Mr. Weasley. _

_"Meteolojinx Recanto? No, I didn't. Thanks, D - I mean, thanks, Arthur."_

Ron stepped off of the lift and the Reviewers with him. When he got out of the lift a haughty looking witch eyed him from her desk.

_"Problem, Cattermole?"_

_"Bernie? You know where Pernie Billsworth is? Oh, erm I mean Bernie Pillsworth?"_

The stuck up witch sighed dramatically and wrote a note onto a slip of yellow paper and then sent the paper zooming off around the corridor.

_"Wait here, Cattermole," she said with her voice dripping with disdain._

Ron moved over to stand against a wall of dark marble and Hermione watched him recoil at the contact, must've been cold she thought. Then the memory started to speed by as it had with Harry in the alleyway waiting on she and Ron to come back with Runcorn's hairs. How bleeding long had they been in the Pensieve? Hermione felt like she was coming down with cabin fever. Can you even come down with cabin fever in a Pensieve? Then the time slowed down and a plump wizard in Maintenance robes rounded the corner.

_"Alright, Reg?" _

_"Yeah, just sent me down to you, Yaxley's office is raining. D - Arthur told me to use Meteolojinx Recanto but I wanted to make sure - "_

_"Yeah, Reg. That'll work. Go on up there quick - word is your wife is being questioned. Shouldn't you be down there at the courts?"_

_"Yeah. . . Yaxley's office then the courts yeah?"_

_"Alright, good luck," Pillsworth said sadly._

_"Yeah," Ron said quietly and turned to the lift._

The Reviewers were on the lift once again and Hermione felt she could go the rest of her lifetime without ever stepping into the lifts at the Ministry again. She let herself day dream and ignore the memory playing out in front of her, listing everything she had to do and trying to remember everything she knew about driving a car.

Eventually, back in Yaxley's office, Ron cast "_Meteolojinx Recanto" _and the raining stopped. Ron quickly cast _"Exaresco!" _hurriedly on a number of the papers on the desk and then sped out of the office, pulling the Reviewers along quickly back toward the insufferable lifts.

The memory went black and then faded back into view. Back in the lifts. Hermione wanted to scream.

_"Ah, Mafalda! Travers sent you, did he?"_

_"Y-yes."_

_"Good, you'll do perfectly well. That's that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway. Ten people today and one of them the wife of a Ministry employee! Tut, tut . . . even here, in the heart of the Ministry. We'll go straight down, Mafalda, you'll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?"_

Hermione watched Runcorn-Harry step out of the lift and glance back nervously at her.

_"Full schedule today, Mafalda. First up is this Arnold Alderton, Muggle-born filth. Can you imagine? Stealing the powers from a witch or wizard and then having the gall to call yourself a wizard?"_

_"N-no. S'horrible."_

_"Too right, Mafalda. Too right." _

The lift doors opened on a floor and a balding wizard who had been planning on stepping onto the lift took a step back when he spied Umbridge on the lift and Hermione heard him mutter some intelligible excuse.

_"Well, let's get to it then," Umbridge said as the lift doors opened at the Department of Mysteries. "This and then some tea and cakes then, yes? Hm hm." Umbridge half laughed and half cleared her throat and stepped out of the lift, prissing in her lavender outfit by the miserable looking people waiting._

_"Arnold Alderton!"_

A man with dark hair and a kind face stood and followed them into the courtroom.

_"Expecto Patronum!" Umbridge chirped._

The man stepped to the seat at the center of the platform in the courtroom and slumped into the chair, already looking defeated.

_"You are Arnold Gilbert Alderton?"_

_"Yes and -_

_"You were married to the late Prisha Leaderman Alderton?"_

_"Yes but -"_

_"No interuptions! And she was killed in an accident in 1994?"_

_"Yes," he answered quietly._

_"An accident of your doing by chance?"_

_"NO! Of course not, I -"_

_"And you are childless? Well that's better for you, no children to leave when you're sent to Azkaban!"_

Umbridge looked over at Hermione with bright eyes, obviously enjoying herself.

_"Yes but I'm half-blood!"_

Umbridge held up a hand with a sickly sweet smile.

_"You've been called before this board because you are most certainly not, as you say 'half-blood'. . . Ok, so take him away then."_

Umbridge motioned at him and looked at the dementors.

_"No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you - get your hands off me, get your hands off - "_

_"This is your final warning. If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."_

_"Take him away."_

_"Next - Mary Cattermole."_

Finally, mercifully, the memory faded and all of the Reviewers and Kingsley were propelled back up into the dimly lit room.

Kingsley looked at them significantly.

"Thank you three for letting us observe. Percy has taken some security notes and we'll be reinforcing the Ministry for the future. Merlin's foot! It's almost one - that was what three and a half hours? - would you three like to go for lunch? There's a charming Muggle - oh these robes, never mind. Well, Diagon Alley then?" Kingsley asked, kindly.

Harry answered that he would like to and she and Ron followed behind Kingsley and Harry. On the way to the elevator, Hermione caught a fragment of what Kingsley was saying to Harry.

". . . unprotected into Muggle London? Harry - don't let your guard down. All the Death Eaters at large will have heard by now about you three and that you were the ones who hunted everything - the 'weapons' - down and everyone else involved in the resistance! An Auror should accompany you at all times, more than one when necessary. Recall the way Moody would have been acting in these times and proceed from there. You, Ron, and Hermione are still in harm's way even though the war is for all practical purposes won. Yes?"

"Ok, yeah. . . wasn't thinking," Harry said quietly, looking over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione with an unreadable expression.

Ron reached down and took Hermione's hand and she let out a deep breath - apparently she was forgiven for the insensitive elevator remarks. What Kingsley had said put her on edge. Were they ever going to just be safe? She felt sixty years old.


	16. Familiar Feelings and Frozen Lemonade

_. . . Chapter 16_

_. . . Familiar Feelings and Frozen Lemonade . . . _

* * *

Ron groaned and stretched against the orange comforter and rolled over trying to focus on the hands of his watch in the darkness. Two-something. . . he squinted over at Harry. Harry had the comforter kicked off and looked wrapped, trapped almost in his sheets. His pillow was on the floor beside the bed.

Ron twisted to look up at the wooden rafters in his room and folded his hands on his stomach. Faded Chudley posters looked down at him, only half visible in the moon light. He had played what Kingsley had said to them before they all went to the late lunch the day before over and over in his head. Even while he sat with Harding and studied while Harding had filed reports almost all afternoon, Kingsley's warning had bothered him. He'd made a mental list of everything they'd have to be careful of - Muggle London, coming and going at the Burrow, and of course when they had their house was ready they'd need a secret keeper.

Ron had tossed around a few potential secret keepers with Harry. Eventually they had short listed it to Bill and dad and Neville. Harry had asked if they should ask Ginny but it just seemed like a bad plan - she had more than a tendency to fly off the handle and go on a Ginerva rampage. Ron heard a creak on the stairs and tilted his head back on his pillow to look his bedroom door. Maybe it was Mione.

The creaks continued down the staircase. . . not Hermione then I guess. In a few moments he heard the screen door whine on its hinges. Ron frowned up at the rafters and tried to silently get out of his hand me down bed. He crept over to the cream-colored curtain obscuring the view of the side yard and gently moved it so he could peek out with just one blue eye.

Mum was standing in the garden in her old, faded red bathrobe, facing out at the lake. Ron leaned against the window frame, folding his arms against the uneasy feeling and the burning feeling behind his eyes. His mum made her way over to one of the willows slowly and reached out to wrap her hand around a bundle of the thin, leafy branches. Ron saw her shoulders start to shake violently and let the curtain fall between them. He inhaled sharply, feeling ashamed, like he shouldn't have seen what he just saw.

He hurried to get back in bed quietly and pulled the covers up to his shoulders with the heat in his eyes becoming unbearable. He stared up at the rafters through watery eyes for a minute or more. Ron kicked the covers down, it was too hot just the sheet was enough. He turned to the wall under the flimsy fabric and after letting a few tears fall for his mum, Fred, the Grangers, his family, and Hermione he let a fitful sleep claim him.

A few restless hours later, Ron woke up to the smell of pancakes and sausage. After a delicious breakfast and sneaking worried glances at his mum, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Mr. Weasley left and joined the throngs of workers in the ministry lobby. After his dad had left the lifts and the three of them continued down to the Department of Mysteries Hermione reached for his hand. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet. He realized as his fingers brushed over hers that he hadn't thought to ask her much about her work. He felt a blush rise up his neck and land on his cheeks when he realized how much she had asked about his and Harry's office, the other Aurors, and their desks. He was in the middle of chiding himself for being such a thoughtless git when a man, not much older than them stepped on at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures level. The guy flashed a blinding smile at Hermione.

"Hermione, good morning! Morning meetings, yeah?" he asked, stepping to stand beside her.

Ron held Hermione's hand slightly tighter and eyed the stranger.

"Oh, um yes. And then I'll be in around one," Hermione said quickly.

"Sounds good. Can't wait til we get you all day! Soon - hopefully! See you this afternoon," he said, stepping off at the Department of Magical Transportation.

Hermione must have felt his eyes questioning her because she looked up and whispered to him, standing on her toes, "Grayson Mathers. Head of the Goblin Liaison office." Ron was too busy being worried about Mr. Smily Goblin Liaison to get distracted but it was hard to stay focused with a few of Hermione's curls brushing his cheek and her breath on his ear.

"Department of Mysteries."

The three of them stepped off the lift and followed the corridor to the Reviewers' room.

"Morning, you three," Parnell smiled at the three of them warmly and nodded at Harry. Ron glanced around, Lenora was waiting and Percy was seated. "To business, then?" Parnell asked.

"Yes, please take your seats and we'll resume. . .So after the trip the Ministry?" Lenora asked, gently.

Ron looked over at Hermione.

"Well, we Apparated the forest where they had the Quidditch World Cup in fourth year and we had the Horcrux so we decided that to keep it with us until we learned how to destroy it, we'd take turns wearing it, yeah?" Hermione tapered off and looked to Ron. Ron struggled to think exactly what was next - the year had really been a blur of tent sprinkled with huge events here and there. Course Harry had seen the stuff about the wand through the connection with Voldemort but they weren't talking about that. Ron looked over at Harry and shrugged at him.

"Well, after that forest, we moved around a lot. We realized that the Horcrux had a really negative effect on us when we wore it. And um . . . I guess next we decided to go see the orphanage where Riddle had been as a kid but it was demolished so we just kept moving for the longest time until . . ." Harry looked around at Ron and Ron felt his stomach try to drop out of his feet. He had left after a fight a few weeks after the orphanage hadn't he.

"I left one night when we had heard a few people outside our tent," Ron said it hurriedly, as if it would help to spit the words out quickly.

"Oh right," Hermione piped up, "it was um, Griphook a Goblin, Dean Thomas, Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, and another Goblin. . ."

Ron felt like Hermione had been trying to throw him a rope with her interjection so as a wave of gratitude washed over him he supplied the other Goblin's name, "Gornuk, wasn't it?"

Harry smiled at him and nodded. Maybe reliving the leaving wouldn't be so horrendously bad.

"Yes! And we learned from them that Griphook knew that Snape had put a false copy of a sword into the Lestrange vault and that several people at Hogwarts had tried to steal it at Hogwarts, including Ginny. . . and what else?" Hermione looked around at them.

"Well, you had Phineas Nigellus' portrait so we asked him about the sword and he told us that Dumbledore had used it on the ring so that's how we knew that the sword would get rid of the Horcruxes. . ." Harry said and looked at Ron somewhat sadly. "So then next we left that site without Ron and Hermione and I went to another spot and we tried to figure where the sword would be but mostly we just moved around a lot until Christmas time. . .And around then, Hermione and I went to Godric's Hollow.

Ron knew he shouldn't feel sore about it but it seemed like Harry kept pointing out that Ron hadn't been there. He balled his hands up into fists in his lap, wishing he could change history.

"And um, first we went to the churchyard to see Harry's parents' graves but then things got . . . well? Harry should we, um . . ." Hermione was looking over at Harry, questioning him with her expression.

"Oh, we could? Do you want this memory? We ran into Riddle and - "

"Then yes, please. Could we?"

"Sure, oh - Hermione? Yours and mine are slightly different. I'll cover it and yours too? My scar. . ."

"Of course," she frowned and nodded at him.

Harry and Hermione stood, dropping the silvery strands into the Pensieve.

"Well, actually, we're a bit short on time, Percy has a meeting with the ministry. So how long exactly is this memory?" Lenora asked, very matter of fact.

Ron watched Harry and Hermione exchange a look and he felt his stomach twist at their closeness.

"A half hour? A hour maybe?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione who nodded back at him.

"Oh, well. I know that you three are probably anxious to finish these meetings but Percy's meeting is at - when did you say, Percy?"

"Oh, ten-thirty. Sorry all," Percy said, scooting his chair back against the black marble. "And Kingsley and I have been trying to work out a new room that isn't so, well, depressing and dark. Also, this would really be better suited to be somewhere Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Percy was backing out of the room with the green lights glinting off of his horn rimmed glasses. "Good day." Percy did an awkward wave and slipped out of the room.

"We don't get some full nine to twelve meetings going soon, we're never gonn' finish these meetings," Parnell said, standing to reveal a purple beaded tassel on the end of his exuberant lemon colored tie. "Harry? Upstairs at one. You three go take a break - Diagon Alley s'supposedly all opened up again. Flourish and Blotts is even in the process of restocking."

Ron looked around at Hermione who looked like Christmas morning had snuck up on her.

"Yeah, we'll go. Hermione, try not to drool and we'll all be back at one," Harry and Hermione were already standing and Ron watched Harry lead Hermione out with a hand on her back. He couldn't help the feeling of nausea that rose up in him as he pushed his chair back and followed the two of them and Parnell out. At the elevators, Harry and Hermione were standing and laughing by the time he caught up with them. The lift opened and announced its presence before Ron could catch what they were discussing. He felt distinctly left out and wanted to kick himself for ever leaving in the first place. . .

Five minutes and two more times Harry and Hermione had shared a joke later they were walking down Diagon Alley. Ron waited outside while Hermione and Harry went into Flourish and Blotts. He could tell she was somewhat put out with him and he knew it was childish but well they weren't trying to include him either so there.

A few minutes later they had reemerged and Hermione had a new book wrapped in brown parcel paper under her arm. Hermione was grinning and for a moment, seeing her smile, Ron forgot he was supposed to be upset with them.

"The cashier in Flourish and Blotts said there is a frozen lemonade stand right outside Twilfitt and Tatting's, care for some?" Hermione said, flashing her smile at him and brushing a few of her curls back behind one ear. Her nails were painted a pale green - when had she painted her nails?

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Ron said, looking above her head at the few witches and wizards standing around in the alley. Hermione looked up at him frowning but turned to follow Harry down Diagon Alley.

They passed the shops and Ron was happy to see even more open shops and many more stands and kiosks.

After they had gotten their frozen lemonade and Hermione had led them to a wooden bench in the shade of the Quidditch shop, Hermione sat and started talking excitedly about their house and moving in and Ron vaguely registered her wanting the bedroom that faces the front yard on the left. Fine with him. Ron looked out at the people out shopping. A few of the passers-by looked their way but for the most part, Ron felt like they blended in well for the first time in a long time out in public.

". . .yeah but what could we call it?" Harry asked, laughing and scooping a spoonful of his frozen lemonade, ignoring his straw.

"Let's see. . .The Den? The Lair?" Hermione sipped her lemonade and laughed.

"The Burrow, the Burrow, the Burrow. . . . the Nest?" Harry said laughing.

Ron snapped his head to face the two of them.

"Oi! That's home you're making fun of," Ron said darkly in a low voice. He stood and tossed his lemonade into the trash, immediately regretting this decision because he was actually starting to get hungry.

"No - Ron. That's not - we weren't making fun," Hermione looked anguished.

"Yeah, Ron. Just trying to name our house it's -"

"It's meant to be just another way to make it feel like home, yeah?" Hermione asked and Ron shrugged, sick with himself about his attitude.

"Yeah, I'm going to go see George. Meet in the atrium before we head home at five?" he asked them, starting to walk away towards Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Yeah, ok," Ron heard Harry say.

Ron walked slower than he usually would but reached the door of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes without Hermione coming to stop him. Fine, they could enjoy the sunny day on their bench and he'd just see them later. As he stepped through the door of the shop he felt the feeling he'd felt in the tent just before he left those many months ago begin to stir again.


	17. Godric's Hollow and Goblins

_. . . Chapter 17_

_. . . Godric's Hollow and Goblins . . . _

* * *

Hermione had woken up late and had finally figured out why. Ginny had been regularly been muttering the counter charm to her alarm spell she had placed each night. Hermione had vowed to have a civilized but highly serious talk with her about it when they got back from the Ministry. She flew down to her hands and knees in search of her other shoe - Ginny's room was such a mess - and scooped out a pile of items with her arm. A book on glamours, Ginny's, a yellow bra, Ginny's, a slightly larger cupped tan bra, hers, and finally, the navy boat shoe that was the mate of the one already on Hermione's foot.

As Hermione hurried to swipe on a bit of mascara, blush, and lip gloss she remembered Ron's sullen attitude the day and night before and paused. She knew he regretted leaving and she and Harry had sat on the bench while he was in with George and discussed his mood. They'd agreed to try to pretend he wasn't in a mood until he inevitably climbed out of it and was back to the Ron they enjoyed spending time with. She just hoped that today was the beginning of the change back to normal.

She had been trying to, as Ginny said, "girl it up a bit" so she had taken to trying out a minimal amount of makeup each day, a bit of hair smoothing each day to tame her curls, and today she'd picked a pair of white shorts with a light blue button down top. Ginny wouldn't let it go about the long sleeve but Hermione couldn't let it go about the scars either so they were at a standstill about Hermione's choices in upper body fashion.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted up the stairs.

Hermione grabbed her small, brown purse and slid the strap across her body and was maliciously pleased when Ginny groaned awake. She turned and ran down the stairs and found Mr. Weasley, Harry with toast, and Ron waiting on her.

"Sorry," she said, breathlessly, "Ginny keeps countering my alarm charms."

Mr. Weasley let out a short bark of a laugh and muttered something under his breath that sounded like "typical".

When they arrived in the Ministry, Ron still hadn't spoken to her, they found Lenora waiting on them, all silver under the skylight in the Ministry lobby. Mr. Weasley parted from them and Hermione felt a wave of déjà vu grab her and threaten to drag her under when Lenora started speaking to them about going down to their usual room. Harry asked her why she'd met them and she'd hemmed and hawed and ultimately had obviously lied and said that she'd just gotten there. They knew from Parnell that she was always there around half past seven each morning at the latest.

Once everyone had gotten seated in the darkened room. Lenora briefly summarized what they had gone over the day before. Soon enough, Harry stood and dropped his copy of his memory into the Pensieve and Hermione stood and did the same but she made sure to start it at the point where she knew that the memories would differ. She could feel Ron's eyes on her when she stood and leaned over the table and she blushed at how much leg and bum she knew he could see. Maybe the shorts were a bad choice.

Ron stood beside her and she chanced a glance up. He looked surly but seemed at least resigned to having to look at more of these memories. Hermione silently agreed that she was sick of it too. Collectively, the table leaned in and fell into Harry's memory of Godric's Hollow.

When the world had righted Hermione saw a bald Muggle man and his rather ugly companion and she leaned over to Lenora and whispered, "Me and Harry, Polyjuice." Lenora nodded curtly but Hermione smirked because Lenora, as much as she hated people talking during the memories, needed to be told.

Ron moved perceptibly farther from her when the memory Harry carefully put the Invisibility Cloak around them both. Nothing warned them for the bizarrely disorienting memory Apparation. The Reviewers were then suddenly standing in snow in Godric's Hollow. Hermione looked around and realized she'd been too nervous to really appreciate how beautiful the scenery was back in December. It was like something out of a post card. She felt her heart drop when she realized that if Harry's parents had lived that this is where he would have grown up and come home to from Hogwarts.

_"All this snow! Why didn't we think of snow? After all our precautions, we'll leave prints! We'll just have to get rid of them - you go in front, I'll do it - " Hermione's voice rang out in the memory._

_"Let's take off the Cloak," Harry said. "Oh, come on, we don't look like us and there's no one around."_

Hermione realized what was going to happen a moment before Harry did and they both grinned at each other and looked at Percy who had been walking mindlessly to his left while taking in his surroundings.

Suddenly Percy was standing with his body halfway in the bald Muggle man's body and halfway in the ugly Muggle woman's body and jumped at the movement of the man's arm to his right. Percy was almost Ron's height, Hermione realized, comparing him to the people he was partially obscuring.

"Percy, MOVE," Lenora whisper-yelled, her usually pretty brown eyes bulging unbecomingly. Percy scuttled away from the memory's subjects.

Hermione caught Harry's eye as they moved behind their memory selves and they both grinned. She looked behind her at Ron to smile at him but it wasn't returned. Her grin faded and she bit her lower lip a bit before lowering her eyes and turning to continue behind the disguised Muggle pair. After they had trudged through the snow, which Hermione was glad to note was dry to her bare legs, they came to a stop when the mousy woman started speaking with Hermione's voice.

_"Harry, I think it's Christmas Eve!"_

_"Is it?" Harry asked, his brows wrinkling in thought._

_"I'm sure it is," Hermione said, turning. "They...they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard behind it," She finished softly._

The Reviewers watched the Muggle woman tenderly take the Muggle man's hand and gently pull him forward with her toward the cemetery. Ron made a strangled sort of noise behind her and Hermione took in a deep breath, refusing to turn around. If he was going to be childish and ridiculous she was going to ignore him. Tit for tat, like her grandmother use to say. Mumzie. When the group had crossed half of the square they halted.

_"Harry, look!" _

The war memorial shifted and transformed into a statue of the Potters. Hermione watched the memory-Harry and the real Harry both looking intently at the statue as if trying to memorize it. Something in his memory self's expression shifted after a while and he spoke.

_"C'mon," Harry started over to the church with Hermione's hand in his._

They followed the quiet memory into the graveyard through a couple rows of stone markers. They watched themselves drop hands and move to look at the gravestones.

_"Look at this, it's an Abbott, could be some long-lost relation of Hannah's!" Harry said, loudly._

_"Keep your voice down," Hermione said quietly back. _

Parnell was looking around and didn't notice the memory start moving so he was standing but moving eerily beside Harry a few paces in front of her, Hermione noticed. She felt Ron staring down at her and it took all her resolve not to give in and stare back. She gritted her teeth.

_"Harry, here!" Hermione called._

_"Is it - ?" He stopped short._

_"No but look!" _

The Reviewers turned to look at the gravestone of Kendra Dumbledore and Ariana. After a long period of silence in which the Muggle man studied the stone, his unattractive wife piped up.

_"Are you sure he never mentioned - ?"_

_"No," Harry cut her off, "let's keep looking."_

_"Here! Oh no, sorry! I thought it said Potter...Harry come back a moment."_

Hermione realized with a sickening pang that they were about to dive into Hallows territory, which Harry was trying to avoid as much as possible. She'd already realized he'd said enough about it during the final battle that it was at best, an oddity that might get brought up and at worst, dangerous. She sucked in a breath and held it there, hoping that they didn't reveal too much and have it permanently committed to Ministry record.

_"What?" Harry said, roughly._

_"Look at this," she said. "Harry, that's the mark in the book!"_

_Harry leaned to look at the mark. "Yeah... it could be ... "_

_"It said Ig - Ignotus, I think..." Hermione inspected it further._

_"I'm going to keep looking for my parents, all right?" Harry harshly told her._

Hermione's shoulders sagged when she realized her error. She'd been caught up in solving a mystery and had mistreated her friend who was visiting his parents graves for the first time. She walked over to the Harry standing near Lenora and stood on her toes to whisper.

"I'm sorry about that Harry, I just ... wasn't thinking. I feel -" she stopped short.

"S'fine. It happened a long time ago, yeah?" He said softly, looking down at her when she sank back down to her flat feet. "Let's follow along." He must've been able to read that she was still upset with herself because he smiled at her a bit and said, "Hermione, it is fine. Don't think on it."

She and Harry followed along with their memory selves. The Muggle pair had split and the memory was Harry's so they were drawn to follow him rather than Hermione.

_"Harry, they're here ... right here," Hermione spoke from the darkness behind them._

The Reviewers and the masquerading memory-Harry made their way over to Hermione and the white marble headstone. Hermione felt Parnell brush up against her as he moved by her to read the words on the stone. The sleeves of his robes scratched her hand and she looked down at her hand. The polish on her right thumb was chipped. She was avoiding looking at the graves because she had cried so hard when they had been there last. She'd struggled to hide it from Harry and wasn't sure how successful she'd been.

_"'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'... Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?" Harry asked with a strangled sort of panic._

_"It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry. It means ... you know... living beyond death. Living after death," she answered softly._

She realized, revisiting this memory, how bad she missed spending time with Harry. Not that he hadn't been around, they just had been distant a bit now that they were living with the Weasley's and he was with Ginny so much and she with Ron when he wasn't in some ridiculous mood. She was always so exhausted that she called it an early night before Ron and Harry most nights. Hermione silently vowed to spend more time with them outside of their work with the Ministry. She chanced a glance up from her feet at the pair kneeling at the graves.

She and Harry in their foreign forms were holding hands while Harry's shoulders shook violently and she wiped at her eyes with her other hand. She watched herself create a wreath and Harry took it out of the air and put it gently on his parent's graves. Then the memory-Harry turned, tears painting his face, and slung an arm around Hermione and she embraced him with one arm and the Reviewers followed them silently through the graveyard.

_"Harry, stop," Hermione whispered._

_"What's wrong?" Harry asked, his voice still thick with tears._

_"There's someone there. someone watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes."_

_"Are you sure?" Harry asked her._

Hermione looked around to where she knew she had seen Bathilda and could make out her shape just barely behind the bushes.

_"I saw something move, I could have sworn I did..." she said, dropping her arm from his waist._

_"We look like Muggles," he said._

_"Muggles who've just been laying flowers on your parents' grave! Harry, I'm sure there's someone over there!"_

_"It's a cat... or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and we can put the Cloak back on," Harry confidently said._

The pair of them disappeared again under the Invisibility Cloak and the Reviewers followed the memory by the pub.

_"Let's go this way," muttered Hermione. After a silent walk for some yards she spoke again, "How are we going to find Bathilda's house? Harry? What do you think Harry?"_

Hermione had her feet planted and was surprised when the memory dragged her along at a quickened pace.

_"Harry - "_

_"Look ... Look at it, Hermione..."_

_"I don't...oh!" Hermione stopped talking quickly._

Hermione saw Ron out of the corner of her eye move closer to look at the remains of the Potters' house. She looked at it, at the ruins of it, and was reminded of her parent's house with a sharp pain and felt tears start to build up. Blinking furiously to try to stop the tears from falling, she looked up at the blackened night sky.

_"I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?" she whispered._

_"Maybe you can't rebuild it? Maybe it's like the inquiries from Dark Magic and you can't repair the damage?"_

A hand appeared from the space where the voices came from and touched the gate.

_"You're not going to go inside? It looks unsafe, it might - oh Harry, look!" she said, rushed._

The sign memorializing the Potters and Harry and speaking of the ruins of the house. Hermione watched Lenora furiously transcribing the events of the memory and Parnell and Percy edged closer to Ron and the three of them were reading the gold words and the notes of support beside them.

_"They shouldn't have written on the sign!" Hermione said with a look of horror written on the alien face of the Muggle woman._

_"It's brilliant," Harry grinned, "I'm glad they did. I ... "_

The Reviewers turned to look in the direction Harry had just looked at the hobbling Bathilda. Now that Hermione was looking at her, they should have known better. She should have stopped Harry, done more to try to stop him. She looked dead, now that Hermione stopped to study her. Her face wrinkled in disgust at Bathilda and her own stupidity.

_"How does she know?" Hermione asked when Bathilda beckoned them._

_"Are you Bathilda?" Harry asked, still invisible under the Cloak._

They watched her nod and Hermione noted the movement was stiff. She was sick that they had been dumb enough to fall for this. Predictable children. They should have Disapparated the moment they saw her. The group followed the three in the memory up the path into Bathilda's house. They were crowded into Bathilda's front room uncomfortably. Hermione felt Ron's side press against hers and was momentarily startled that he'd gotten over his snit but he jumped when they made contact. She was glad that he didn't make to move away though and moved just a millimeter closer to him.

_"Bathilda?" Harry asked, without the Cloak on._

Hermione watched Bathilda push her out of the way and move into the other room.

_"Harry, I'm not sure about this," she whispered._

_"Look at the size of her; I think we could overpower her if we had to," said Harry. "Listen, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't all there. Muriel called her 'gaga.'"_

_"Come!" Bathilda yelled from the next room._

Hermione jumped as her memory-self did the same. She'd heard a strangled yelping hiss at the time if she recalled correctly.

_"It's ok," Harry whispered, putting a hand on Hermione's hand clutching his other arm._

When Hermione had jumped, Ron had moved closer so that there was a comforting pressure against her side. She didn't want to disturb it so she let the memory pull her along and smiled slightly when Ron did the same. When the memory stopped in the room with Bathilda walking unsteadily around, Ron lifted the arm against her and put it against her shoulder blades, trapping some of her hair between his hand and her shirt. She let out a breath slowly, glad that everything between them seemed to be on the mend.

_"Let me do that," Harry said, lighting a candle. _

Hermione didn't watch Harry move around the room or the Reviewers move around the memory because just then she'd felt Ron's hand work through her hair to the back of her neck and felt chills travel down her spine. He'd never touched her neck before, had he? Certainly not in public. She felt the breaths in her chest get shallower and swallowed, carefully bringing up her arm to wrap around Ron at the top of his hips.

_"Mrs. - Miss - Bagshot? Who is this?" Harry asked. _

Hermione tried to get her reactions under control and pay attention. Bathilda was staring, glaring more like, at the memory-Hermione. Hermione noticed that in the memory, her hair was slowly lightening and thickening.

_"Miss Bagshot?" Harry asked, snapping Bathilda's attention back to him._

Hermione looked at Harry, trying to ignore the cool, large hand on her scorching neck. He was getting slightly taller and his eyes were starting to change. How had she not noticed this at the time? Maybe because it was so dark, she guessed.

_"Who is this person? ... Do you know who this is? This man? Do you know him? What's he called? ... Who is this man?" Harry pushed._

_"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, with a stressed pitch breaking through._

_"This picture, Hermione, it's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please! Who is this?"_

Hermione sucked in a breath and Ron looked down at her, brushing his thumb against her neck. She blinked and gave him a weak smile, shaking her head so he'd know not to ask about it. She wanted to go with what Harry had decided about seeing the visions, that the world didn't need to know about it, and what he had asked them to reveal about the Hallows which was pretty much going to be impossible to do, Hermione feared.

_"Why did you ask us to come with you, Mrs. - Miss - Bagshot? Was there something you wanted to tell us?" Hermione spoke up loudly._

They watched Bathilda jerk her head, indicating for Harry to follow her.

_"You want us to leave?" Harry asked her. When she jerked her head again, Harry looked at Hermione. "Oh, right... Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her." _

_"All right, let's go," Hermione said, starting forward._

Hermione and Ron watched Bathilda gesture to Harry that she didn't want Hermione to go with her. Merlin how didn't they know she wasn't a good deal? Hermione gripped Ron's waist harder for support.

_"She wants me to go with her, alone."_

_"Why?" Hermione asked, sharply._

_"Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only to me?"_

_"Do you really think she knows who you are?" Hermione asked. _

_"Yes. I think she does."_

Looking at him and the way his Polyjuice was fading, Hermione rather thought Bathilda, not a snake-inhabited one, might have known Harry. She was struck with how careless they were not to have brought more Polyjuice, just in case.

_"Well, okay then, but be quick, Harry."_

_"Lead the way," Harry said. _

The memory pulled Hermione and Ron and the other reviewers with them up a high set of stairs into a black room.

_"Lumos." _

The light lit Harry and Bathilda jarringly from below, making Harry look grim and Bathilda look definitively dead.

_"You are Potter?" Bathilda whispered._

_"Yes, I am...Have you got anything for me?...Have you got anything for me?"_

The memory went black and misty around them for a moment and Hermione felt Ron's grip on her neck get briefly painful. Then they were back where they had just been standing.

_"Have you got anything for me?"_

_"Over here," she said._

_"What is it?" he asked, edging around to a pile of laundry._

_"There," Bathilda said._

When Harry turned around to search for the phantom sword, Hermione focused her attention on Bathilda who seemed to be imploding with the snake rising from her neck. The snake flew forward and Hermione winced and Ron's fingers tightened slightly on her neck as they watched the snake bite into Harry's arm. Harry's wand was loose and the snake knocked Harry back against the table. Hermione tried to breathe deeply and she heard Lenora gasp from somewhere off to her left. Harry had lost the rest of his Polyjuice disguise Hermione saw as he was rolling away from the snake as it broke the glass on the table. As the glass shattered they heard a distant call ring out.

_"Harry?"_

The snake had rolled onto Harry and was working to coil around him.

_"No!" _

The memory went misty and dark again. How strange that Harry's mind had been so frequently connected to Voldemort's. Hermione knew from the day she was about to spend taking care of an unconscious Harry that he was absolutely haunted by these visions and glimpses. She had a moment to be thankful they were rid of him before the memory swam back into view and she realized the snake had successfully coiled around his torso.

Harry's struggle on the floor with the snake was beginning to tip in favor of the snake and the memory started going white, everything gaining a heavenly-type glow before springing back into focus. Hermione, back in her true form after the Polyjuice, dove aside as the snake tried to strike again. She watched her own curse hit the window, blasting glass in every direction. The memory-Hermione stiffened visibly, mouth gaping open as she hit her knees roughly as Harry ducked to avoid the glass.

From their angle, watching the scene, they could see a few pieces of glass embedded in the back of Hermione's thick coat. Ron dropped his hand from her neck to the upper back. Hermione knew he must be remembering touching the scars at the ball, realizing what had caused the small, raised lines. The memory-Hermione seemed to take a deep breath and collect herself against the pain, jumping up to send a spell at the snake as Harry clapped a hand to his forehead.

_"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"_

The snake thrashed around, breaking shelves and figurines. Harry jumped over the bed and grabbed Hermione. They watched his arm force a piece of glass farther into her back, making the vision-Hermione shriek in pain as he dragged her over the bed. Hermione remembered that, it was like rubbing salt in a wound, being dragged on her back, she was so aware of every piece of that glass in her back. Harry jumped with Hermione and she heard herself scream,

_"Confringo!" _

And the room seemed to explode around them and they, somehow through the chaos, saw Harry and Hermione jump and twist out of the window.

The memory went black and after a moment they found themselves in the living room again. Hermione worked her way around to Lenora, letting go of Ron, reluctantly.

"I, um, I don't know that we need to watch this again. The only difference is that I found the room that Bathilda had been killed in, I'm not sure we need - "

"Alright," Lenora said. Hermione realized she'd been crying a bit, streaks of mascara worked their way from the outer corners of Lenora's eyes. "Everyone! We're not going to watch Hermione's as she said it's pretty much the same."

Hermione exhaled, glad to leave Godric's Hollow, as the memory pulled them back to the Department of Mysteries. Back in the room, Lenora sat and finished her final notes while everyone else sat in a comfortable silence.

"Alright, that's it for this morning. Kingsley thought you all deserved a bit of a treat for having to do all this so he reserved a table for us all at a new restaurant, just opened up on Diagon Alley. He said he'll meet you in the lobby at noon so that's..." She paused to look at her watch. "That's about fourty minutes from now, so if you want to stay in here you can and we'll meet you upstairs in a bit."

Hermione looked around at Ron, who shrugged at her, and then at Harry, who nodded at Lenora.

"Ok, see you tomorrow then," Lenora said, standing. Parnell nodded a farewell at them and Percy coughed, awkwardly taking his leave as well.

"Blimey!" Ron broke his vow of silence for the day. "To think he only barely missed you both, how... I mean, Harry, Hermione - I wish I hadn't ever left," he finished quietly, letting the words hang in the room.

"It's alright, Ron. You came back," Harry said with a sincere smile.

Hermione just reached out and took his hand and they discussed Parnell's scratchy yellow robes and moving into their new house, which Harry suggested they call the "Fortress of Solitude" so they had to explain Superman to Ron. They were laughing when they made it up to the lobby to meet Kingsley.

After a somewhat awkward lunch between Parnell ribbing Lenora and Percy's perpetually stiff demeanor, they went back to the Ministry to work for the afternoon. Hermione went to her small wooden desk, hidden from view of passerby by an enormous black column, where she had a set of robes that were actually appropriate for working in the Ministry stashed. She pulled the robes on over her outfit and fixed her hair a bit. She'd been trying to get to know her co-workers and so far she knew Odette Lafitte, graduate of Beauxbatons the year Fleur had graduated, who was beautiful with dark brown hair. Odette was sweet but her accent always made her a bit hard to understand. Odette was working on some legislation for Goblin rights that Hermione had been doing some minor research for. Mostly, Hermione thought, Ms. LaFoe was trying to keep her busy and not expect to much of her. It was a bit boring, actually.

Conway, another one of her peers walked by her desk, noticing she'd come in for the day he smiled warmly at her. She smiled back. Conway worked with the Centaur division, mapping out their movements and territories. He reminded her in some ways of Neville around third year, sweet but clumsy and a bit slow. How odd and how great that Neville had changed so much. Obviously the circumstances of the change weren't great but she was proud that he'd come into his own so much.

When Odette got back from lunch, she and Hermione visited the office of Grayson Mathers to collect the pamphlets, books, and papers they were meant to review for the Goblin legislation. Grayson told them that they were both in on the remainder of the project as partners and pointedly told Hermione she'd be expected to pull her share even though she was still occupied in the mornings, which might mean working here on some weekends. But he was nice about the assignment and Hermione thought to herself that she'd rather be busy than bored so she smiled and took the bundle of items he handed her. Glad to be busy and glad for the smell of fresh parchment, ink, and old books, Hermione settled happily into her desk a few yards away from Odette.


	18. On the Grass and In the Field

_. . . Chapter 18_

_. . . On the Grass and In the Field . . ._

* * *

Later that night after Ron and Harry had met Hermione in the Ministry lobby and returned to the Burrow for a loud dinner of corned beef and cabbage with mum, dad, George, Ginny, and a visiting Fleur and Bill, Ron stole a few moments with Hermione in the garden. The screen door swung shut behind them, loud over the noise of the crickets, and they walked over around the side of the house and Ron flung himself unceremoniously onto the grass and patted a spot beside him, smiling up at Hermione as he stretched his jean-clad legs out in front of himself.

She sat down a bit more carefully than he had, mimicking him and extending her legs across the grass. She looked tan but Ron couldn't think of when she'd really spent a long time outside. Maybe the day she was planting for his mum, he decided. She had sat a conservative distance away from him so he scooted until they were hip to hip. He turned to face her and she was looking straight away but he could tell that the corners of her mouth were turned up in a small smile.

"'Mione," he started but stopped and cleared his throat. "Hermione, I'm sorry for, well...you know, for the way I acted. It was just a freeze out because I was," he paused and rubbed his neck with his left hand, "upset with myself for leaving."

She turned to look at him in the half-light outside and smiled at him. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, you're apologizing."

He let himself grin, leaning back on his elbows. "Yeah, and?"

"No, I mean it. We should write it down!" Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned her torso to look down at him. He tried to look cross at that but their eyes connected and she started laughing and he couldn't help but smile at her. Tiny lines crinkled around her eyes and she threw her head back and her deep, not at all girlish laugh washed over him.

"I'll apologize more often if it makes you laugh like this," he said, laughing his way through the sentence.

She caught her breath and looked down at him, suddenly serious. He felt his heart seize up in anticipation of a backlash or something.

"I want you to know, when you left...that was - " she started.

"Stupid?"

"No," she looked annoyed at his interruption. "It was a long time ago and I thought, I mean we are passed that. I know that you and me, we - what we have, is bright, shiny new but we've weathered a lot, Ron. We've been ... we've been forged in every way. And nothing you've done before has any negative bearing on us going forward," she paused. "I love you, I have for years and I hope next time you're upset you can speak with me about it, ok?"

He smiled his crooked smile up at her and said the only thing he could say after her eloquent speech, "I love you."

She grinned at him and leaned toward him as if to kiss him but stopped when she was halfway there. Her hair fell around him like a curtain as he looked up into her small face.

"Ron, do you want to go on a date with me?" Ron opened his mouth to answer but she started again. "I mean like a real date. An honest to Merlin - just the two of us, wear a dress, go to dinner, kiss goodnight - kind of date?"

He couldn't believe she actually looked nervous, hovering above him and asking him. "Yes, yeah we'll definitely go. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it is. There's a place your mum and I passed when we were looking for dresses over in town that I thought would be nice to try out," she finished excitedly, giving him the delayed kiss he'd been expecting earlier.

Ron bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning like a Plenki Imp. Hermione lay back on the grass and Ron tried not to notice the rise and fall of her chest or that her top couple buttons on her shirt had been unbuttoned since the morning. They lay like that until the blue dusk had turned to navy night. They talked, finally, about her work. He was surprised that she had been thrown directly into work without much training like he and Harry were having to do. He wanted to go to her office and meet a few of her coworkers - if nothing else that would allow him to lay eyes on this 'Conway' character just in case. They talked about how he was nervous that Harding was the primary Auror on Greyback's case, how he didn't know the other Death Eaters he was assigned: Salter and Drimet. They talked until Hermione had yawned and Ron had checked his watch and found it to be quickly approaching midnight. Ron had walked Hermione to her and Ginny's door and Hermione had stood up on her tip toes and angled her face up to his and his lips met hers in a chaste kiss on the Weasley's stair landing.

The next morning Ron tumbled out of bed when Harry yelled at him and headed downstairs for what smelled like eggs. Crookshanks complained loudly from one of the upper landings somewhere up the stairs and Ron realized he hadn't seen the blasted thing in days. Maybe the demon-spawn had gotten more independent after Hermione had left him for the last year. When he got downstairs, Hermione was sitting, looking smug at Ginny across the table who, Ron noticed, was looking like someone had smacked her with a bludger.

"Morning, Ginny. Looking good," he said, taking a seat beside Hermione.

"Bugger off, Ronald," Ginny grumbled over her untouched plate. Ron glanced at Hermione who looked spitefully delighted as she bite a piece of toast as if it had offended her in some way. He tried to hide a smile but couldn't hold it in so he stood to pour is cup of tea so he could grin at the stove and wonder what Hermione had done to get Ginny downstairs at this hour.

A shuffling on the stairs alerted the room to Harry's presence, Ron knew before he turned around who it was.

"Morning, Harry!" Hermione chirped, brightly.

"Morning. I was thinking - the house is supposed to be ready tomorrow right?" Harry asked. It was hard to take him fully seriously with the unruly clump of hair that made his head look misshapen.

"Yeah, tomorrow, why's -" Ron started but Harry cut him off.

"I'd like to double check that and make sure. I mean we haven't signed anything," Hermione said, loudly. Ron was beginning to wonder if Hermione was being happy and loud _at_ Ginny intentionally.

"Exactly! Should we owl her, yeah?" Harry asked, scooping some of the scrambled eggs onto his plate.

"I suppose so. I'll do it," Hermione said, scraping her chair across the floor and moving to pick up the quill and parchment that his mum kept in the kitchen for just such occasions. While she was writing, another thought occurred to Ron.

"Secret keeper? Dad, Bill or Neville?" Ron asked, addressing the room but then thought better of a long discussion and blurted, "Bill? Is Bill ok with you both?"

Hermione nodded and hummed her approval while she wrote and Harry answered that that would be fine around the mass of eggs in his mouth. Well that was settled then. Hermione sent the owl off and Ron went upstairs to get cleaned up for the day. When he reemerged downstairs, Hermione was holding the quick reply from Madame Cadlebyer who wished to meet them next day at the house at 9:00am. Ron hastily scratched down a message to Bill asking him to meet them at the Burrow the next morning and to be their secret keeper.

A short time later found the three of them entering their typical room where Lenora was waiting on them. When the rest of the Reviewers were seated, Lenora spoke up.

"Alright, it's Friday, May 21st. We're hearing testimony today on - " she looked up at the three of them expectantly.

Ron looked at Harry who nodded at him. Ron froze for a moment wondering if there was something he had forgotten then suddenly he remembered.

"Right, I used the Deluminator to come back, the day after Christmas, to Hermione and Harry and -"

"Excuse me? Deluminator?" Lenora prompted gently.

"Yeah, erm. Well it turns lights on and off and then it helps you to Apparate if your...if you're trying to concentrate on one specific person. Took me a while to find that out."

"Right, then?"

"Well, I came back and saw a Patronus, a doe, wandering around the forest so I followed it and saw Harry jump into a icy pond when the light from the Patronus went near the little lake." He saw Lenora turn to address Harry but Ron didn't want Harry to go into the Horcrux's reaction to him so he jumped into more explanation. "See, Harry had seen the doe and had followed it and even though I couldn't see it at the time, Harry could see the sword of Gryffindor which Dumbledore had left him to destroy Horcruxes with." Ron paused to take a breath and then plunged ahead.

"The sword of Gryffindor was used by Harry in second year - remember? We watched the memory? - to stab a Basilisk so the Basilisk venom inside the sword could kill Horcruxes, we knew. So anyway, Harry jumped in to get it and when he didn't come back up after what I thought should have been long enough I jumped in after him and dragged him out. The Horcrux seemed to sense what Harry was doing, you know, getting the sword to get rid of it so it sort of attacked him," at that Ron looked to Harry for confirmation and he nodded, "so I cut the chain off of him."

"Alright, and then?"

Ron looked at Harry who nodded back at him. Bloody hell, they were going to make him talk for absolutely forever.

"Ok, yeah, and then when Harry realized it was me standing there and we talked for a bit and then Harry decided that I should be the one to destroy that particular Horcrux because...well I guess I don't exactly know why but I ended up being the one to stab it." Ron finished the last few words in a particular hurry.

"Ok and may we have a memory of that to keep on record?" Lenora asked and Ron felt his throat get tight.

Swallowing heavily Ron said, "Well, actually I was really rather hoping that the verbal testimony would be enough for this one..." Ron looked down and studied the freckles on the backs of his hands.

"Very well. Your decision has been noted. Is there anything else you have for the day?" Lenora said, tartly, obviously irritated with him. Ron looked at Harry and Hermione. Hermione had her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously but Harry had turned to look at Lenora.

"Actually, the Patronus was a doe, which we found out months later was the Patronus of Severus Snape," Harry said, confidently. "Wanted to make sure that was on record as well."

"And so it will be... What other testimony will we have today?" Lenora asked, still sore.

"Well, I guess next we went to Xenophilius Lovegood's house to ask him about - " Hermione had start but immediately stopped with her eyes going wide. "To ask about how Luna was and that's how we found out she was missing." Ron didn't chance a look at her but he was very grateful then for her quick lie. He was reminded of what he'd said when she Petrified Neville in first year and smiled down at the tabletop in front of him.

"Ok, and we'll get a memory of that event then?" Lenora asked.

"Well, no. Really, not much happened there, I mean Death Eaters showed up ... I guess they had been tracking us or Mr. Lovegood and then - oh, names. I guess it was, the Death Eaters, I mean, it was: Travers and um..." Hermione faltered.

"Selwyn," Harry offered and Ron saw Hermione nod.

"Travers, you said? And Selwyn?" Parnell asked, writing them down. "We've got people on both of them - actually I'm on Travers' case now - but that'll all add to the case files then. Lenora, can I get copies of today's testimony? And maybe we'll need to call Lovegood about -"

"Oh, I heard him get Obliviated before we Disapparated. Can't quite recall who cast it," Harry lied smoothly. They were all masters of secrets and lies now, Ron supposed.

"Right, well then that's probably out but better owl him to be sure. I think that maybe," he paused to finish writing for a moment, "we should call it a day. Miss Granger and I were going to discuss something - you did say after the Lovegood incident right?"

Ron looked over at Hermione puzzled and she jerked her head at him. He didn't know exactly what she'd meant by the motion but Parnell spoke immediately.

"Alright, Miss Granger will stay for just a bit and then we will see you tomorrow at the same time."

Ron recognized the dismissal and he and Harry stood, heading out to the elevator bank.

"Odd," Ron remarked as Harry leaned in to press the lift button.

"Well, I wondered how they'd handle that, you know," Harry answered, not turning around.

"Handle wha - oh. The manor, yeah?" comprehension dawned on Ron as the elevator clanged to a stop at their level.

"Yeah," Harry said softly. "Blimey, you don't think she'll revisit it with them in there alone without us?" Harry's face had gained a horrified look. A stooping old wizard in almost hilariously thick, large glasses stepped into the lift with them.

"No, no, surely not," Ron said but a lump had risen in his throat at the idea of Hermione being alone for something like that.

They stepped out of the elevator at the level of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and were met with yelling and what appeared to be all of the seven levels of hell. Papers flew everywhere, red orbs hung in the air - Ron knew that meant there was a high alert, and a group of Aurors were shouting and running.

"ELWOOD, MAXWELL! WITH ME!" Harding yelled out as Ron and Harry rounded the corner. He noticed Ron and started slightly. "Ron, tip on Greyback. Been spotted, there's a victim. You ready?"

Ron nodded mutely, in shock.

"Alright, we're going," Harding led them back to the elevators they had just come from with four other Aurors behind him. After the group had descended upon the Department of Magical Transportation for an emergency Portkey, they found themselves in an alley beside a horrific smelling dumpster. Ron took a moment and tried to clear his head. What had he read about being on the scene? Ok, nothing. Well, what did he know? Cover your partners and aim to stun or disarm unless it's, well unless it's someone like Greyback in which all necessary measure were accepted. Ron felt decidedly ill.

"Blood," whispered an Auror behind Ron. He looked down and saw small splatters of blood leading further down the alley which the group followed stealthily to an open doorway where the blood trail continued.

Ron looked at Harding for any kind of instruction. Harding made a series of hand movements and facial expressions and the Auror with glasses moved by the opening quickly to lean his back against the wall, ready to turn into the doorway as quickly as possible. The shortest Auror assumed the mirror of that position so that they were both ready to jump through the doorway armed and ready. At Harding's nod they both entered the doorway, wands first. Harding motioned to Ron and the other two Aurors and Ron took that to mean they would all be entering the building.

Ron steeled his nerves and adjusted his grip on his wand. Harding and Ron entered, swiftly followed by the other two Aurors. The first two Aurors that had gone through were standing with their wands lit above a large pool of blood.

"We cast Homenum Revelio, nobody here. She's not totally cold yet. We're going to do a couple more locating spells then we're going to scour the area and see if, you know, any other traces or anything."

Harding grunted his approval at what the glasses Auror had said and Ron looked at where a couple of drag marks from the larger pool led to the form of a girl. Ron felt the room spin a bit and had to pinch his wand arm with his other hand to keep himself from floating off. Ron stood frozen until the glasses Auror and the short Auror had done their work and then left out the doorway they'd come inside. Ron noticed the shelves around them were covered in dust. An old abandoned storage room and this girl was thrown in here, like trash.

"Alright, Ron? You take notes?" Ron felt himself nod. Harding handed him a roll of parchment and charmed it to stay in front of him, then handed Ron a quill. Ron switched his wand to his other hand and got ready to transcribe.

"Ok," Harding moved around and the girl's form came fully into the light. Her back was a bloodied mess. She had brown hair just a shade or two off of Hermione's. Bite marks covered her shoulders. Ron could make out blood on her bum and legs.

"Female victim. 88 West Granthom Street, London. Alley attack," Harding stopped and Ron looked up from the scroll. Harding did a series of wand movements. "Muggle, damn - not a chance, Greyback suspected but not confirmed - no magical signature to prove...Probably raped and then bled to death from the wounds on her back but an autopsy from St. Mungo's is required - Elwood, you'll make that owl now? Senior Auror in Change: Harding. Senior Auror: Keyling. Aurors: Elwood, Maxwell, Russell. Auror in Training: Weasley...Alright, Ron did you get the highlights?"

"Um, yeah, yes sir," Ron answered, reviewing his notes, quickly.

"Alright, Elwood, Maxwell, will you both stay with her until St. Mungo's gets here?" Ron watched them nod and couldn't help his eyes wandering back to the girl's back and imagining Greyback's nails raking her back...his awful face laughing at her...

"Ron!"

Ron jumped at the sound of Harding's voice and realized that he might have called Ron's name more than once.

"Ron, we're going to look around this area for a bit and then, once your appetite has recovered, if it recovers, maybe we'll grab a bite."

Harding led the way and Ron followed him, on high alerts, Harding would periodically perform a series of spells in quick succession and then change direction or speed up their investigation of the labyrinth of buildings and alleys they seemed to be in. After a while, Harding turned and motioned to Ron to stay silent. Ron's heart thumped loudly, traitorously. They came to a rusted metal door with a broken chain and Harding stuck his wand though the door whispering, "homenum revelio", into the black hole. When nothing happened Harding pushed the door open wide and stepped in.

"Damn this asshole," Harding swore under his breath.

Ron looked to see what Harding had seen. A mattress lay covered in blood beside a clean clump of blankets. Empty food and drink containers littered the room.

"This is a hideout," Ron said, realizing how bad this situation truly was. If it was bad before, when Greyback could get quickly spotted somewhere, then his ability to hide somewhere for a length of time unfound...

"Hid pretty well here, I suppose. Except at full moon...It looks like more than just one person has been here," Harding stopped to cast more spells Ron didn't recognize. He needed to glue himself to the desk and study that book. "I don't recognize any signatures though... Alright, I'll ward it to alert us if anyone comes and then we'll go."

Harding wordlessly cast a series of wards and Ron felt similar but more powerful ripples to the wards Hermione would set around the tent as the wards took place. In a few moments, Harding had put a friendly hand on Ron's bicep and gently led him out of the room back into the damp, brick alley.

"It's after one o'clock. You hungry?" Harding asked.

"Yeah, alright."

"Ok, Leaky alright with you?"

Ron nodded. Harding gripped Ron's upper arm tighter and the tug of Disapparation pulled at an already disoriented Ron. After a few short minutes, Tom came to take their order in the slim crowd and Harding insisted Ron order a pint and Ron didn't have the energy to disagree.

"So Ron, what did you think? Well, what I mean to ask it how did you do with it?" Harding asked, kindly over his stein.

"S'alright, I guess. It's just hard because," he took a deep breath. He hated sharing feelings but it might actually be useful for Harding to know some of this. "We, that's to say - Harry, Hermione, and me - had a run in with Greyback and a band of Snatchers sometime in March. Hermione was tortured by Bellatrix and almost given to Greyback so it's just sort of hard to see, you know?" He rushed through the words so that they came out in one breath but Harding seemed to understand and nodded.

Ron saw him subtly lift the parchment out of his robe and jot a few things down. Ron thought about any other times with Greyback he could remember.

"He was there the night Dumbledore died. He attacked Bill, my oldest brother. But I guess that's really all the information I've got on him outside of the Auror department..."

"Ok, well where did the Snatchers have you where Bellatrix was? I was under the impression that all Snatchers worked for the Ministry last year," Harding had his quill ready for Ron's response.

"They recognized Hermione and thought they recognized Harry as well so they took us to Malfoy Manor," Ron was seriously regretting dredging this back up right now when the body of that girl was so fresh in his mind.

"Alright, thanks for the information..." Harding leaned back and put the parchment back into his robes. "So you and Hermione? Saw it in the paper a couple weeks ago I think, social section - subtle."

Ron appreciated the change in subject and smiled a queasy sort of smile at him. "Yeah."

"Well, try not to mess it up. I hear that genius female war heroes aren't exactly thick on the ground or anything," Harding said, trying too obviously lighten the mood.

"Yeah, I'll try," Ron noticed the wedding band on Harding's finger. "Married?"

Harding flexed his fingers and smiled, admiring his yellow-gold ring. "Yeah, a few Decembers ago. Nicolette loves Christmas time."

Harding stopped talked and sat up straighter when he saw Tom hurrying their way. Ron glanced down at the menu and thought he might be hungry after all and ordered some bangers and mash.

"Yeah, Nicolette couldn't believe it when I said you were my Auror in Training. Says she wants to meet you sometime, maybe have you over for dinner or something - no doubt to let the girls run all over you."

"Kids?" Ron asked, picked up his stein. It was bloody heavier than it looked.

"Yeah, two girls. A three year old and a 18 month old. They're wild - it's like going home to a pack of animals. You've got one sitting on one foot, the other one is wrapped around your other leg and you haven't even shut the door behind you," he finished chuckling.

Ron let himself smile picturing Harding as a family man with two little girls. He pictured them with the same dirty blond curls that Harding had. Sometime later in their conversation they had shifted to why Harding had chosen to become an Auror. He froze up about it at first but said that his cousin had been killed in the first war and he had just always wanted to do something to fight the people that seek to take your family from you. Eventually they got onto the subject of Salter and Drimet, Jacqueline Salter was suspected of the murder of multiple Muggle families but had stayed out of any of the highly visible battles and events. Liam Drimet had been a spy within the Ministry and had disappeared after the final battle which he had been confirmed as a participant in. An hour later, Harding told him that he was free to just go home after the morning they'd had so Ron stood outside the Leaky, shook Harding's hand, and Disapparated with a pop.

Walking into the Burrow in the beaming sun, Ron refused to let his brain process everything he'd seen. He walked in, removed his shoes, shuffled into the living room and lay back on the ugly couch to stare at the ceiling. An hour or two later, Ron felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. He opened his eyes hoping to see Hermione but found green eyes behind glasses instead.

"Ugh, Harry. What?" he groaned.

"Hermione is getting ready for some date she seems to think the two of you have. Unless you plan to go in your Auror robes maybe you should - "

"Right!" Ron swung his legs off of the couch and stood up too quickly, his vision going a bit dark as his head rushed.

"You ok? Harding came back to the office looking pretty worn out," Harry asked, taking a step back.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I'll tell you about it later," Ron called over his shoulder heading up the stairs to get presentable. When Ron had showered, combed his hair, shaved, and put on his nicest pair of jeans, he started down the stairs again. He felt like it was a flashback to the night of the ball. Hermione was standing in a white dress with thin straps that stopped well above her knees and a pair of high heels. He grinned at her, tension from the day melting away in favor of a totally different feeling.

"Ready?" she asked him, smiling as he finished coming down the stairs.

"Yup," he said, making a big show of offering her arm. They were to Disapparate from the yard to the spot Hermione would be taking them and then they'd walk the rest of the way to the restaurant. As soon as the door swung shut, leaving them alone, Hermione cleared her throat.

"I know that you might not want to talk about it, since you didn't tell the Reviewers today but I was wondering what you left out about the Horcrux earlier."

Ron took a deep breath, remembering their conversation last night where she'd asked him to speak to her if something was bothering him. He felt her arm tighten reassuringly around his.

"I'll, um... I'll tell you over dinner if that's ok with you?" his heart was in his throat with nerves but if he was going to be honest about things that bothered him, he supposed now was as good a time as any.

"Alright, sounds good. You ready?" Hermione asked, getting ready to Disapparate them both.

He nodded and they were gone, leaving the crickets to do all of the talking in the yard.


	19. Secrets and Space

_. . . Chapter 19_

_. . . Secrets and Space . . . _

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes when her charm rang out that Saturday morning. At first she felt a wave of sickness, thinking she'd forgotten that she had work and then she canceled the charm remembering it was the day they were to move. Ginny groaned from across the room and Hermione smirked as she picked up a few key swear words from the redhead. Hermione stretched out and, remembering last night, smiled at the textured ceiling above her bed.

She had packed all of her things the night before and put out a pair of denim shorts and a white short sleeve shirt with her trainers to move everything in. Her bags were already shrunk and ready but she was sure that neither of the guys had anything packed. They would be taking all of Ron's furniture for his room, Hermione had ordered her own bed delivered that afternoon from a furniture store nearby, Harry needed to buy one but he had delayed too long to get it delivered. The wards would surely hid their place from view by the time Harry go around to it. Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley had enough old kitchen items to outfit their kitchen and Mrs. Weasley had packed those things. Hermione listed out the things she needed in her head and felt prepared as she shimmied out of her pajamas and into her clothes for the day.

She pulled her hair into a messy ponytail - no need to get cleaned up only to get dirty moving and arranging. Ron and Hermione had talked a bit about fixing up the backyard which was all dirt. Hermione knew that with the help of magic the actual arranging of things wouldn't take long but she was the first to admit she didn't know everything about the wizarding way of gardening so she'd asked Mrs. Weasley for a couple issues of _Gardening for Witches_, a magazine on the subject. Once she had brushed her teeth and checked her reflection, she exited the bathroom to wake Ron and Harry.

Her knocks on Ron's door had pushed the door open and Hermione's jaw dropped open in surprise. The room was perfectly empty. They'd packed. An almost maternal wave a pride hit Hermione and she grinned into the empty room. They'd all changed so much and this was definitely one of the more positive changes.

A male voice drifted up from downstairs and Hermione recognized it after a moment as Bill's. She noisily made her way downstairs and was greeted with the shocking view of everyone already ready - well except Ginny. Small shrunken bags and tiny, doll-like furniture were floating between Mrs. Weasley and the doorway Hermione had just walked through where Harry was levitating it with his wand.

Ron smiled at her when she sidestepped Harry's floating items and Hermione's stomach flipped pleasantly but somewhat guiltily after last night. They'd spoken at length on their first real date about the most serious thing they'd ever spoken about - trust. She wished she'd known more about his insecurities before - she felt guilty about that, that she hadn't known - but at the same time she felt like a wall around his emotions had been decisively removed from between the two of them. They'd eventually agreed to always be willing to talk things like that over and she'd solidified hers and Harry's relationship for Ron once and for all.

"Alright, if you are all ready we'll all go. Dad, you got us all a Portkey to the new backyard, yeah?" Bill's deep baritone filled the Weasley kitchen. Ron hooked an arm around Hermione's back and Hermione felt momentarily breathless with anticipation of living in their own house.

"Got it just last afternoon, per Harry's request," Mr. Weasley said gaily, setting down a busted, old clock on the kitchen table beside a bowl of lemons. Hermione had been worried that the Weasleys would have a rather somber day of moving their youngest son and two quasi-children out of the house but Mr. Weasley at least seemed to be in a good mood.

"Oh, shit. Ginny," Harry muttered under his breath. Ron ran up the stairs and dragged a rumpled and angry Ginny down the stairs with him. Minutes later, the Portkey had brought them to the all dirt yard, fenced in by a four foot high cedar fence that had gone grey with weather. Hermione looked up to the yellow brick home with its cream colored shutters and felt the same flutter of excitement she'd had when she'd kissed Ron for the first time all those months ago. It felt like a permanent step forward, like a major life shift was happening. Instead of making her feel old like reliving all the blasted memories did, it made her feel stronger and healthier - moving in the right direction instead of rewinding a year for the sake of filling in the Ministry.

"Oh, hullo!" Ms. Cadlebyer came out one of the white French doors from the kitchen and onto the dirt with them. "Pleased to meet all of you, I'm Sabine and, oh, you're really you aren't you?" She was addressing Harry who Hermione noticed was still levitating all of the tiny furniture. She smirked at the tiny furniture, remembering playing with her Barbie when she was little. All of her Barbies ended up ditching life in the dream house as a stay-at-home-wife to Ken. They were all doctors or dentists, they were by far the sluttiest looking professionals in the history of the modern workforce.

"Yes, um, where - ?" Harry looked around, asking.

"Oh! Inside! Inside, please everyone," she ushered them inside and once they had the acceptable amount of small talk; Hermione, Ron, and Harry had signed here and initialed there. Then suddenly Ms. Cadlebyer was folding up the paperwork and pocketing her quill. They officially were renting the yellow brick house for 25 Galleons a month. The house was outfitted for Ms. Cadlebyer who used to live there so Hermione was glad to find it had Muggle appliances, though Ms. Cadlebyer said that it could be retrofitted for wizards. Hermione was sure that Mr. Weasley had agreed to come and 'help' for the sole purpose of inspecting their domestic devices. They had a washroom with a washer but no dryer, Ms. Cadlebyer had said that they could magic their clothes dry or hang them out, whichever. At first when they had found out the cost of the rental, Ron had baulked and paled but Hermione had to point out that they were all three on pay now at the Ministry. Actually, the money was deposited automatically and Hermione realized with a pang she hadn't double checked her Gringotts account to verify that it had been deposited.

A shuffling of feet, a whispered spell and Mrs. Weasley had _scourgified_ the dusty kitchen countertop. Hermione broke out of her thoughts and grinned when she made eye contact with Harry. Ron clapped his hands together loudly, ready to start making it home. Excitement was tangible in the kitchen of their new house.

"First things first. Bill, you'll stand here," Mr. Weasley guided Bill to stand in the middle of the room. "Ok, and then you three," he pointed at them in turn, "will all stack your wand hands and stand across from Bill."

Harry carefully lowered the articles down onto the wood floors there in the kitchen. Hermione, Ron, and Harry moved forward and stood side by side and extended their right hands. Hermione had never thought about it but they were all right handed. Come to think of it, they'd never bumped elbows while they ate at the Gryffindor table so she guessed she should have been more observant. Hermione stood on Ron's left with Harry on the far right. Hermione put her hand on top of Ron's much larger, freckled hand, finishing the pile.

Mr. Weasley moved forward and stopped short, "Oh, Bill - your hand on top, please. Forgot."

Bill's hand, scarred and strong, moved over Hermione's and she had to fight the small feeling of discomfort. She couldn't remember ever touching Bill before, especially not basically holding hands and facing each other.

"Alright, then." Mr. Weasley put the tip of his wand on top of the four hands. "Do you William Arthur Weasley agree to serve as the Secret Keeper of 147 Valona Street for Harry James Potter, Ronald Bilius Weasley, and Hermione Jean Granger?"

"I do," Bill replied solemnly and a winding yellow strand of light wrapped their hands.

"Do you accept the Fidelius Charm and vow to serve as the only one capable of revealing the address and location of the house to outsiders?" Mr. Weasley continued. Hermione made eye contact with Ginny who smiled encouragingly.

"I do." Another string of light wrapped around their hands beside the original line.

"And finally do you accept this responsibility into your soul and vow never to abuse the knowledge which you are given?"

"I do." The final string of light moved around their hand, parallel to the first two. Then the three bands of light moved and twisted together, forming one thicker rope.

"Then I, Arthur Septimus Weasley, hereby bind you to this promise and establish you as the Secret Keeper of this property," Mr. Weasley lifted his wand away from their hands and the rope that had just been there seemed to sink through their hands. Their hands glowed for a moment before fading and Hermione felt the air shimmer a bit between them.

Bill grinned at Ron, the only one in the room that could look a standing Ron directly in the eye. Harry dropped his hand and the remaining three dropped their hands in the next moment.

"Baby brother s'all grown up then? Renting a house in Ottery St. Catchpole, working at the Ministry, finally making a move on Hermione too then?" Bill teased Ron, lightly.

Hermione saw Mrs. Weasley wipe a tear away from her location on the other side of Mr. Weasley but she was smiling so Hermione looked away and let her have her moment.

Ron was blushing but he and Bill were walking out of the room with Bill's arm around Ron's shoulders on what was presumably a tour of the house. Harry and Ginny moved to leave the room, picking up their furniture and belongings and Hermione turned to follow them. There were two bedrooms downstairs and two upstairs and they'd decided the night before that Harry and Ron would take the two upstairs that shared a bathroom and Hermione would take the one downstairs so that she'd only have to share with the guestroom which was a small room that they all agreed probably wouldn't see much in the way of overnight visitors. Harry started up the stairs before her and Hermione trailed her hand along the wood rail attached to the wall on her right. Turning into the room on the left, Harry let the items he had been levitating before the Secret Keeper bond sit gently onto the floor.

"_Finite Incant_ - " Harry started and Hermione panicked.

"NO!" Hermione shouted and Harry stopped, looking confused. Ginny jumped when Hermione screeched.

"I was just trying to -"

"I know, use _Engorgio_ on the furniture. The bags have an Undetectable Extension Charm on them, Harry. The room would have looked like a tornado came through here not to mention we'll be under a pile of everything you've got in the bags. You have to unpack the bags and then enlarge the items one at a time. It makes for great space saving but isn't exactly a perfect time saver," Hermione finished and was pleased to see Harry nod and then aim his wand at the bed, enlarging the one piece of furniture. So the room on the left was to become Ron's room then, Hermione surmised, and left the room as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came into the room on their tour of the house. Hermione smiled at them and Mrs. Weasley rubbed a hand on her back as she moved by her and onto the stairs.

She walked downstairs into her bedroom by the kitchen and set down the bag she had packed away her things in. The furniture company she had ordered her bedroom set from had said it would be early afternoon before it all got there. She walked into the bathroom she'd have pretty much to herself and noted the tiny window over the shower that let in a sliver of light that bounced off of the mirror. With a sinking feeling she realized she didn't have towels, she didn't have sheets, she didn't have ... anything besides her clothes, the few things she had saved from her parents' house, books... She took a deep breath and knew she would have to go to her parents house for a few things eventually and she knew that time was sooner rather than later. She summoned a sheet of parchment and a quill and sat on the tile floor listing everything she wanted to get from her parent's house...it felt ghoulish to go through their things but the house couldn't sit there as a museum forever.

_towels _

_sheets_

_piano_

_wedding china_

_wedding portrait_

_guest bedroom_

_dad's books and shelves_

_living room furniture_

She didn't want it to be like living in a tomb but if she got the guest room towels then that would be fine. The sheets for their Grangers' guest bed would fit her new bed. Of course she'd want the piano, she'd played ever since she was four and every summer. She couldn't leave their wedding china and crystal either, her mother had always used it on holidays and birthdays and every once in a while if she cooked a really nice dinner. She and her mum had used the china for cereal once when her dad was away at a conference and they'd laughed the whole time at how silly they were drinking juice out of crystal and eating with the silver. She added _piano, crystal, silver_ to the list.

The guest bedroom furniture at her parents' house was a blonde wood four piece set that Mumzie had passed down to her mum when she had died. She couldn't bear to leave it but she didn't think it would fit in the guest room. She decided to bring it anyway and make it fit. The bed had always had the last quilt Mumzie had made on it at the foot of the bed. She added _quilt._

The added, _the car_, quickly, deciding that she could just pack it and bring it along and worry with a permit later if she wanted. She just didn't want to let go of the car yet, remembering the family trips they'd taken across the English countryside in it every summer. She'd need to contact the goblins at Gringotts and have her money transferred over permanently after she had arranged for the house to be sold. She felt guilty for letting it sit but it was a daunting hurdle she had yet to feel ready to overcome. Harry had a similar feeling she knew towards Grimmauld Place. Mr. Weasley had told them that while they'd been gone that the property had been seized and searched by the Ministry. Mr. Weasley had put in an application as soon as the dust had settled for reparations for the Ministry's damage of Harry's property. He had told Harry not to try to disturb any of the property until the Ministry had surveyed and priced the damage. She knew it was hard on Harry but he hadn't spoken with either of them about it since that night.

Then, breaking from her reverie she remembered they had a dining room she added, _dining set_. She was grabbing the living room furniture as well. She and Harry and Ron had talked it over and they were only buying the furniture they needed to keep from wasting money. Harry had none. Ron had his bedroom. She had all of the furniture at her parents' house to choose from, no matter how distasteful it felt. So ultimately, they'd decided to use mostly things they already had. Hermione had picked out a new bedroom set - she didn't want her little girl set anymore. A twin bed didn't suit her fancy anymore when she could finally graduate into a double bed.

She walked out of her bathroom, standing off of the cold tile and steeled herself to ask Harry or Ron to go with her to get the things she felt she needed from her parents house. After a quick discussion on the matter, Harry decided he'd go with her if she'd go with him first to the store and select his furniture and then they'd go to her parents house. She noticed Ron looking a bit uneasy and after their talk at the restaurant she made sure go hug him goodbye and squeezed him gently hoping he'd understand her meaning. He seemed to ease a bit at the contact and told her and Harry to be careful and watch for anything that didn't seem right and hurry back.

While she and Harry perused the limited but nice selection at the store and Hermione pointed out which one she had selected, Harry asked Hermione which one she liked the most for a bloke. She told him she didn't know - just to pick one. Then Harry had blushed and asked which one she would like for a couple to share. She narrowed her eyes at him and said she'd liked the cherry sleigh bed they had walked by just inside the door.

"Why do you ask? Does this have something to do with Ginny, Mr. Potter?" Hermione asked, baiting Harry into talking about his relationship which he rarely did.

"Maybe, it's a yearlong lease after all," he replied coyly. Hermione felt like she'd been hit with a stunning spell.

"Harry!" She stopped still and looked at him over a hideous lamp. "You're talking about moving in with Ginny?"

"Not just moving in, it's a year lease and then she'll be out of Hogwarts, you know - " he trailed off, turning a shade of pink that she didn't know he was capable of. He was messing with the tag on a pillow he'd picked up.

"Oh my God! You're talking about proposing!" She almost shrieked before she could clap her hands over her mouth excitedly.

"Shut it, Hermione," but he was grinning. "No one knows. I was going to propose after her graduation, well I was thinking about it anyway. You think it's a bad idea?" he asked her with the most earnest expression she'd ever seen on him.

Her eyes filled with girlish and embarrassing watery tears. She squeaked out, "It's brilliant! It's, well it's fast, but it's brilliant! She'll just flip, Harry!" She moved around the furniture between them and flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "She'll say yes before you can even finish the question! Oh, Harry," she backed away to an arm's length, "I'm so happy and excited for you!" And she truly was. If anyone deserved some happiness it was Harry and even though he and Ginny had just gotten back together, Hermione knew they had been through enough that if Harry felt secure enough to propose then they were probably ready for that life-altering step.

He grinned at her and then got serious, "Just don't tell Ron or anyone else for that matter, I just don't want her to find out from someone else, you know?"

She agreed but once she had wiped her happy tears away she said, "I'll let you be the one to tell Ron. He won't like that I know and he doesn't but it's your business to tell. Alright? You tell Ron." Harry had nodded.

She helped him purchase the cherry bedroom set which would be ready for pick up by Harry sometime that evening and then they Apparated to her parents' once immaculate back yard that had become overgrown. She swallowed her trepidation and Harry guided her into the house. As she carefully put unbreakable charms on the china and crystal while Harry shrank and packed the living room items, Harry had called out asking her what she thought about Ginny wearing his mother's engagement and wedding rings. In her parents dining room, packing memories away, Hermione had started her teary mess up again.

"I think that'd be lovely, Harry," she replied thickly.

"Well, I'm not sure that I have them but I thought maybe that you'd go to Gringotts with me sometime in the next few months and we'd look in the vault. That's the only place I can think of - " he huffed about something, sounding strained.

"You forgot the weight of it and tried to pick up the bag didn't you?" Hermione asked, finishing the last of the china and crystal.

"Shut it, Hermione," he grumbled and Hermione heard his footsteps growing closer. "Piano, living room furniture, books, shelves, what's left for me?"

"I got the portrait, silver, crystal, china, the portrait so... guest room furniture, down the hall, second door, including the quilt and sheets," she stood up with her bag, "and then I'll get the extra sheets and towels." She pulled out her list and double checked it briefly: the dining set, the car.

Harry left the room to see after the other things and Hermione quickly shrank, charmed, and packed the dining set, walking outside to the car. The keys jingled in her back pocket where she'd picked them up off of the kitchen table. She put up a few charms to prevent the neighbors from noticing her wandwork and packed the car as well. Easier to Apparate with it than drive the three or so hours it would take to drive to their home in Ottery St. Catchpole, she reasoned.

After they'd gotten home, where Ron had accepted the delivery of Hermione's furniture and finished arranging his room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left with Bill and the four of them unpacked what Hermione had brought from her parents' house and set up their home. A blonde owl came around three o'clock for Harry and he opened it excitedly, finding a note from Andromeda Tonks asking if they would be willing to keep baby Teddy the next day. Harry immediately responded that they would, only wincing slightly when Hermione mentioned they didn't have a crib or diapers or any experience whatsoever in the ways of babies. Harry said he'd pick a crib when we went to retrieve the rest of his furniture.

Hermione heard Harry getting Persephone settled in their expansive attic. Ron teased Harry about giving Persephone her whole room as Ginny Disapparated from their backyard to go back to the Burrow. "That's something Hagrid would do: build a whole house for a Blast Ended Skrewt," Ron had laughed.

"Oh my god, Hagrid! We said we'd write!" Hermione had said with a guilty feeling. They composed a note for Hagrid telling him about the Ministry, their new jobs, their new house and invited him for a dinner sometime the next week. All three signed their first names to the note with their love and Persephone took off into the navy evening. By ten that night the house was finished and arranged.

"I love magic," Hermione said, looking up at the ceiling from the sofa she had just placed with a levitating charm across the room. Ron laughed so she sat up on one elbow to glare him down where he was sprawled out on the rug. "I'm serious, do you know how long moving would have taken without it?" She lay back down.

"All bloody weekend and part of next week," Harry answered for Ron, plopping into one of the two matching arm chairs to the left of the sofa.

Hermione yawned and decided it was their home she could sleep when she wanted so she stood up, stretching toward the ceiling with her arms reaching upward.

"Wards good?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"You double checked me then?" Harry nodded again. "When?"

"Earlier, I don't know. Ron and I both checked," Harry said, a bit tartly. Hermione yawned again against her will, covering her mouth with her right hand.

"I'm exhausted, I'm going to bed. See you both tomorrow morning, I'm making breakfast. Your mum left us a few groceries earlier so I think we have enough for pancakes - no promises though I'm wiped," she called over her shoulder going into her room and shutting the door.

Later when she had pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and one of Ron's white undershirts she'd secretly kept from last year, she climbed into her new large bed and put her wand under her pillow. It was the first night she went to sleep in a room by herself since last summer, the evening before she'd cast the memory charm on her parents. A horrible mess of mixed emotions welled up inside her and she let a few tears wet the pillow as she tried in vain to clear her mind and fall asleep.


	20. Teddy and Safety

**AN: If you didn't see HP 7 part 2 please don't read any farther in this little author's note - but for Merlin's sake go see it! For my purposes, I quite liked the Chamber of Secrets scene so assume that happened. As for the epilogue, I like the couples and kids and all that but I am not sure about the timing of all (in the book, Teddy would be too old to be going back to Hogwarts for that to work - etc) so you will probably notice some changes to the order of events but nothing too crazy. Thanks for reading!**

_. . . Chapter 20 _

_. . .Teddy and Safety . . . _

* * *

Ron lay awake in his large new bedroom, irritated by the street light that seemed to be purposefully shining into his window to keep him awake. He and Harry had stayed awake in the living room for long enough to see Hermione's bedroom light go out and then sat talking about Teddy coming to visit and whether or not Andromeda and Ted would stay for a visit. Harry said that Parnell had discussed going with him out in the field to try to track down Dolohov, there had been reported sightings of him near Hogsmeade and Parnell was anxious to get that handled before Hogwarts reopened. They talked until Ron heard Hermione cough from her room and he and Harry both realized that if they could hear her then maybe they were disturbing her so they parted at the top of the stairs and went into their rooms for the night. Which is how Ron came to be laying on his stomach, fumbling in the side table drawer for the Deluminator.

One click and the street light was extinguished. The room was bathed in darkness and for a moment Ron lay there smugly and closed his eyes against the world. Minutes later, a still wide awake Ron kicked and flailed around on his bed in anger and threw the comforter off with a flourish. Mentally grumbling to himself, Ron quietly swung open the white door of his bedroom and turned to go down to the kitchen. Hermione had said earlier there were some groceries from mum so maybe there were midnight snacks. He opened the refrigerator, a muggle device that Hermione and Harry had thought might be nice to keep. Ron thought it was a bunch of nonsense - mum had always just cast permanent cooling charms on the wood cabinet in their house but Hermione had liked it and it was already there in the kitchen so it had stayed. Ms. Cadlebyer had told them she'd lived in the house before the previous tenants so Ron assumed she'd put it in here for herself. He shuddered to himself at what life would be like if he was a squib. Would he, Hermione, and Harry have -

A cry sounded from what Ron thought was the living room, interrupting his train of thought effectively. Abandoning the hunt for snacks in favor of solving the problem of noise, Ron closed the refrigerator and reached for his wand in the waistband of his sleep pants. He walked into the living room and found it empty and then went to listen at Hermione's door. He heard a sharp gasp and instantly made up his mind, pushing the door open and stepping into her room.

Hermione was laying sprawled across the bed with her hair covering her face as she muttered something. Ron moved closer. She was on her stomach with her back rising and falling quickly, breathing heavily. "No...no..." she whispered. He shifted his weight and his foot hit a spot on the floor creaking into the quiet of the room. Hermione jerked awake, scrambling for her pillow.

"No, Hermione... I'm sorry, it's me," he said quickly, putting his wand on one of her bedside tables as he stepped closer to her bed, arms raised in surrender.

She turned to face him slowly and Ron brought his hands to either side of her face, brushing a few curls out of the way with his fingers. "Oh, sorry..." she said with her voice thick with sleep.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Hermione," he spoke softly. He noticed she was wearing shorts and one of his thin white undershirts that was partially see through on her skin in the half light. She wasn't wearing anything under the shirt, bloody hell. He brought a thumb to her lips and brushed them softly and watched her eyes calm down from her nightmare. Her lips were so soft. He felt his heart rate speed up uncomfortably as he dropped his right hand and let it slide down her neck, across her shoulder and down her side pressing his fingers into her back and bringing them closer together. First kiss in the new house, he had time to think before Hermione leaned up and brought their lips together and placed both of her small hands on his sides through his t-shirt.

She dragged him into bed with her. Ron made sure not to crush her as he pushed her back with his weight onto her pillows. He kissed her harder remembering the paper-thin shirt she was wearing. His throat seemed to close and make breathing more difficult when Hermione started gathering up the back of his shirt in her hands, bringing her cool hands to press against his bare back so that he was laying on top of her. She let out a sort of groan against his mouth and he eased up off of her and looked down to make sure she was alright, she smiled up at him leaning back to reconnect their mouths and wiggled one of her legs out from under him so that he wasn't putting any weight on it. He realized with a shock that he was laying between her legs, their bodies separated by very little fabric. He tilted his head to the right and felt Hermione open her lips to let Ron kiss her more deeply. Their kisses neared a near frantic intensity that was sustained for long, delightful minutes.

Some point not long after that Ron broke for air but one glance down at Hermione, in his shirt with her chest rising and falling heavily. . . He brought his hand up her side on the outside of the shirt and hesitated before letting his hand go where he wanted it to. He eased his hand over, waiting for her to stop him if she wanted. His hand soon moved to her breast boldly and Ron almost choked with the feeling of need he felt for her. After a few minutes of letting his hands explore the feeling of Hermione's body through the thin cotton, Ron reached for the hem of her shirt and Hermione broke away from his mouth breathlessly.

"Oh um, not yet... I can't - " Hermione trailed off and looked up at him. She was biting her lip and looked worried that he'd be mad or something. "I mean, just... hold off a while? It's only been a few weeks and - "

He smiled down at her and let go of the shirt hem, trailing his hand back up her torso to hold her gently on her neck, "Yeah, alright."

"Thanks, Ron," her voice was deeper and thicker than usual and Ron nearly groaned with unfulfilled need as he rolled off of her onto the bed beside her. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and made to stand up and Hermione sat up in bed.

"Hey, stay with me please," she requested lightly. He turned to look at her, carefully avoiding looking too hard at her in that filmy shirt and she scooted over to encourage him to lay back down. He lay back beside her on his back and she turned on her side to face him and leaned over and kissed him one last time. It lacked some of the heat of a kisses from a few moments ago.

"Goodnight, Ron," she said closing her eyes, her breath hitting his shoulder pleasantly.

"Night, 'Mione," he said, folding his hands over his chest and calming himself down with a series of deep breaths before he finally found sleep.

Ron woke the next morning with the light streaming in from the half-closed blinds. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the mint green paint and then the brown hair fanned across him. Sometime in the night, Hermione must have shifted to where he now found her: snuggled against his side with her head on his shoulder and one leg thrown across his thighs. He let out one breathy laugh and tightened his arm that he found wound around her.

"Hmmph," whined Hermione at the movement without opening her eyes.

Ron stilled, smirking, not anxious to ruin the bubble they had found this morning. He shifted his head around on his pillow to look at the rest of the room. Hermione had moved a couple of the bookshelves she and Harry had gone to get from her parents' house into her room. It was full of books and nick-nacks and one thing that looked like a torture devise that he'd have to ask about later. Her furniture that she'd gotten new was made to look old which Ron didn't understand a bit. It was a wood that'd been painted white and then made to look like a beater had gotten a hold of it. A handful of things were sitting on top of her new dresser and mirror combo: the destroyed cup - he smiled a bit at that memory, the Head Girl badge that had come in the mail for her after they'd left for the year that mum had saved, a picture of the three of them after Harry's 17th birthday party, and a glass vase that Ron didn't recognize.

Ron heard a small noise from the cracked door of Hermione's room and lifted his head off of the white pillow case. The door started to slowly edge open seemingly without any one standing there. Ron unwrapped his arm from around Hermione and felt clumsily for his wand on her side table. Then suddenly everything happened at once: Ron's wand fell as it brushed his fingers sending sparks across the wood floor, Crookshanks jumped off of the floor _MROWLing_ his discontent as he sailed onto the comforter around Hermione's legs away from the sparks, and Hermione jumped awake pressing all of her weight onto his chest and forcing all the air out of his lungs.

After Ron and Hermione had rectified the Crookshanks and sparks situation, Hermione had gotten up and gotten ready for the day while Ron started making pancakes as a penance for waking Hermione up _"in the middle of God forsaken five alarm disaster!" _as she'd shrieked at him. Really the worst of it was that Hermione had made him apologize to Crookshanks in front of her, bloody orange git.

A delicious - if he did say so himself - breakfast, and a shower, and then Andromeda and Ted Tonks had brought Teddy to visit them and left after Harry had given them a brief but thorough tour of the house. Andromeda looked relieved to pass Teddy along. Ron quickly did the math, Tonks had been in her late twenties or so then her parents were probably at most in their sixties or seventies, he decided. They looked much, much older than that.

Seemed they shouldn't have worried about diapers, the Tonks' had brought a 'diaper bag' with literally everything that had ever been made for babies that Harry had taken and put in his room beside the crib. Hermione had tried to tell Harry to set up the crib in the guest room - she could shrink the guest bed - but Harry wanted to make sure Teddy stayed in the room with him so he was the one that got to take care of him.

The three of them spent the first few hours with Teddy watching him play in the floor, pumping his legs in the air and squealing when Hermione would lean over him to let her hair tickle his face. Ron reached out and touched his the baby's naturally light brown hair and was shocked at how soft it was. Teddy had flailed around at Ron's touch and then his brown hair turned red, a perfect match for Weasley red. Hermione and Harry had laughed then when Ron had recoiled in shock and Teddy smiled up at him good-naturedly. After Teddy had served as their entertainment long enough, Hermione had picked him up and gotten Harry to mix a bottle of formula. She sat with the baby on the couch and, with Harry watching her like a hawk, fed Teddy. Something about that image stuck in Ron's mind and he took turns imagining a red haired baby and a baby with golden brown hair in Hermione's arms for the rest of the day.

Eventually Teddy grew tired and Hermione had transferred him to Harry to take upstairs to the crib. Hermione said she was going to do some reading for the Goblin stuff she had been working with so Harry and Ron went and got their handbooks and the three gathered in the living room like it was the new Gryffindor common room. An hour or two later and Ron closed his book with a smack, asking Harry to come outside with him to survey the dirt yard that they had gotten with their house. Harry had taken a note from Hermione and had brought parchment and a quill outside for observations.

The hot, late-May sun beat down on the ground and Ron coughed in the dusty backyard.

"Well, I'm no Neville but wouldn't grass just be enough out here?" Harry asked, turning in a circle to appraise the yard.

"Maybe, but it'd die without having a little shade so maybe just grass and trees. How hard could that be? Seeds and saplings, yeah?" asked Ron, feeling like maybe they had all overblown how hopeless the backyard was.

"Maybe we'll just worry with it next weekend and leave it for the week," offered Harry. Ron agreed, nodding. Harry banished the parchment and quill with his wand. Enough for this weekend, he thought, moving and Teddy's first visit all at once was adult enough without landscaping decisions.

Then they heard a sound, like someone had turned on a radio on low volume. Harry looked up at his bedroom window from the back yard and narrowed his eyes at it.

"Is that Hermione?" Ron asked, looking with Harry at the window. It was so bright outside they couldn't see into the window and were only met with the reflection of the sky on the glass.

"Yeah I think so, no radio in there. She's singing," Harry said moving to sit on the shaded brick back step of the house.

"I didn't know she sang," Ron said, shoving Harry over a bit so he could sit. The sound was pleasant like a distant humming. They couldn't really make out many words which Ron found himself strangely disappointed by. They sat and listened to the tune and occasional pauses in the tune in a peaceful silence until the tune stopped and stayed stopped a few minutes later.

"She loves you, you know," Harry broke the silence after a while.

Ron didn't know what else to say except, "Yeah, I know." He studied a small hole in one of the boards in the fence before speaking again. "S'funny though because of all that's happened, I feel like we skipped a step somewhere. Like other people go on dates to get to know each other but when she and I went out the other night it was like what other people would have on a hundredth date, you know?" He looked at Harry who nodded.

"That's not a bad thing though, Ron," Harry said softly, twirling his wand in his right hand.

"No, I know. It's just a thing. I sometimes think that -" Ron was interrupted with a tap at the glass on the door behind them. He and Harry stood up, Harry quicker than he had. Hermione was standing with Teddy, his hair was a match to Hermione's brown as he smiled, clenching and unclenching his hands in Hermione's thick hair. She looked beautiful, Ron thought with his mouth going a bit thick and cottony. Harry opened the door and Ron paused for a moment watching Hermione hand the baby to Harry, struggling to unwind her hair from Teddy's fingers. Ron walked in and closed the door, moving to help Hermione free her hair. Ron moved toward Harry and Teddy but Hermione put a hand on his forearm and he stopped and leaned down and she whispered, "Don't. Teddy is ripe. Trust me," then she backed away and said to Harry in a normal volume, "you probably need to change him Harry."

They watched Harry go upstairs, leaving them alone in the living room. He thought about her and what the future might hold for them and felt his chest constrict at the thought of marrying Hermione, having a baby with her... When he looked back down at her she had her eyes trained on him with her lips in a small smile. Sometimes he felt like she could see straight through him, dive into his mind and pull out what he was thinking. It was like a sort of non-invasive, non-magic version of Legilimency.

Ron put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down, glad when she met him almost halfway by standing on her toes. She closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss and he maneuvered her so that he could lift her up to sit onto the back of the couch for a better angle.

About then Harry made loud retching and coughing noises that shattered the moment between Ron and Hermione. Ron pulled away from her to glare in the directions of the stairs. Hermione, for her part, leaned backwards and let herself fall onto the cushions of the brown couch laughing.

A muffled, "Shut up, Hermione," drifted down to them from upstairs and Ron grinned and then looked down at Hermione in the tight, v-neck shirt she had on that day. He leaned a long way over the back of the couch, gripping the back of it with his arms so he didn't fall, and kissed her hard. After a minute or two he let himself lean back up to stand over her and said simply, "I love you Hermione."

She swallowed and said, "And I, you, Ron." He didn't think he'd ever tire of hearing her confirm her feelings for him. That night after Andromeda and Ted came back for Teddy, Ron started up the stairs after kissing Hermione goodnight.

_Ron and Harding were walking through an alley way that was all shades of smoky gray. As the pair of them walked deeper into the alley, the alley started to close on them and splashes of blood were appearing, thrown angrily across the walls. He and Harding broke into a frantic run as the walls of the alley continued to close in. They ran through and then scooted through until finally they reached a sort of clearing in the forest of alleyway. The alley they had just come from closed behind them, bricking them into a circular clearing. The sounds of their footsteps seemed to echo in opening. A huge pool of red centered around a small human figure. Ron looked over at Harding but Harding had disappeared. Something made the hairs on Ron's neck stand up, like something was horribly wrong. Ron crept closer to the figure, a girl, and saw honey brown curls that he recognized immediately. Not able to bear looking at her face, Ron sank to his knees a few feet from her. The blood soaked into the knees of his pants. He looked down at his clothes, covered in her blood. When he looked back up her position had changed and he was faced with large brown eyes frozen open in a too pale face. Hermione._

Ron jumped awake and breathed heavily in the darkened room. Wiping the moisture from his eyes, Ron repeated the walk from last night, skipping the kitchen this time. He got to Hermione's door and pushed on it gently. Avoiding the creaking spot in the floor, Ron moved to the side of the bed with the most room and crawled in carefully so he didn't wake her. He lay on his side to face her where she was sleeping on her side. Her face was reassuringly flushed with color. Debating for only a moment, Ron gently edged closer to her, wrapping one of his long arms around her waist. Her breath against his neck and the heat coming off of her. . . He tried to fall asleep thinking the whole time to himself, _She's alright, Ron. . . She's safe . . ._


	21. A Decision and a New Concern

_. . . Chapter 21_

_. . . A Decision and New Concern . . . _

* * *

Monday morning when her charm woke her, Hermione jumped awake against a warm body she didn't know was presently beside her. Blushing furiously, she scrambled out of bed and was thanking Merlin still as she turned on the tap in the shower that Ron hadn't woken up in her flailing attempts to figure out who had an arm around her. When she got out of the shower, she was relieved that Ron had woken up and shut her door so that she didn't have to tiptoe around him in her towel. She hadn't quite thought that one all the way out in her hurry.

That morning, the three of them gathered in their back yard and Harry Apparated them to the safe point outside the Ministry entrance. As soon as they landed there, a small witch landed almost directly on top of Harry.

"We need to get our Floo connected, like yesterday," Ron quipped as they walked to the toilets they had used to enter the Ministry as fugitives a few months ago. The Ministry was working still to undo them and revert to the previous method of entry through a series of hidden doors spread about London alleyways. In the last year that had been deemed a 'threat' to Ministry security and the Ministry had implemented the easier to control bathroom method. The day was slightly overcast so when they walked into the Ministry lobby it was dim and Hermione shivered a bit at the cold nature of the room that was only emphasized by the weather.

"I'll go to the Department of Magical Transportation and get it done today," Hermione volunteered regarding Ron's Floo connection wish.

Once in the lobby, Lenora met them in front of the fountain. This was getting suspicious, Hermione decided, either Lenora expected them to be late or was overly anxious to start or something.

"Good morning, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter. Kingsley and Percy were called out on a public relations-type trip to the Portugal Ministry of Magic. It was urgent but they should be back tomorrow, Kingsley said. Why don't you three work a full day in your offices and then tomorrow we will resume the meetings?" She'd explained quickly.

All three of them agreed and as they prepared to walk off, Lenora called them back, "I'm sorry! So sorry, I forgot. We are moved again. Typical Ministry workings, you know. We're in a room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - finally where we belong as we approach the end." She laughed a bit and led them to the elevators and then to the small conference room where they would meet the next day. As Lenora turned to go back to the Wizengamot offices, Hermione quickly followed her. She waved off the boys when they tried to follow.

"Lenora," she called and the woman turned around. "I was wondering if I could just give you the memory now? I thought about what Parnell said about it helping track down a few Death Eaters over the weekend and decided that I would give the memory but I just can't watch it again." She looked down at her shoes, peeking out from under the hem of her jeans and robes. The carpet in the Wizengamot offices was a painfully bright green.

"That's fine, Miss Granger. I'm glad you decided to share it. I'll need you to write a statement that I can enter on the record and then you can give it to me," Lenora motioned for her to follow her into her workspace. She produced a quill, sheet of parchment, and an empty glass vial from the bottom drawer in her desk. She pulled out her chair and Hermione sat down and started the quick note, writing exactly what she felt about the memory and the Reviewers' viewing of it. When she was done, she folded it and used the wax on Lenora's desk to seal it. Lenora nodded at her in approval and then handed her the empty glass. Hermione put her wand to her head and copied the necessary memory, corking the small bottle when she had deposited the memory. She let out a heavy breath when Lenora shut the note and the memory back in the drawer and locked it.

"Thank you, Hermione. You won't have to be there, you'll just work a full day tomorrow with the Goblin Liaison office and we'll have someone tell you when the next meeting will be and fill you in on anything necessary, alright?" she said kindly.

"Yeah, alright," Hermione said. Lenora walked her back to the door of the Wizengamot and Hermione made her way to the elevators. She almost stopped by Harry's and Ron's desks but she wasn't perfectly sure she could find them based on their descriptions of where exactly their desks were and she didn't want to look like some sort of freak wandering the rows of the Auror Department. She went back to her desk and pulled out books that she had been combing for the piece of work they were working on. Odette was already there and looked up in surprise when Hermione sat down. She didn't comment on it so Hermione got back to the summary of Goblin history that she had been working on. Odette was compiling evidence of previous rights bills for other creatures and Hermione was to compile the history of the Goblin rebellions and any other relevant histories. They were compiling these reports to give to LaFoe for her approval and then they would begin the actual writing of the body of the bill to go before the legislators. She was nearing the completion of the history research and only had the conclusion summary of the history to go. Grayson had told her to slant the final paragraph to convince people that this legislation was necessary. . .She bit the end of her quill - ugh, not as tasty as a sugar quill - before writing the final few sentences.

_ The Goblins' rebellions between the 1600s and 1700s were bloody, costly affairs. Their rebellions have been historically vicious although unsuccessful. We rely today on Goblins for the minting of coinage, creation of fine metal workings, banking, and a number of additionally necessary responsibilities. The legislation would put an end completely to the rebellions Goblins have initiated in the past and give them the opportunity to speak for themselves in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as well as in the International Confederation of Wizards on behalf of Britain. The history of Britain's Goblin population speaks to the need for exactly this type of legislation to ensure a peaceful working relationship between the wizarding and Goblin populations._

She punctuated the final sentence with a high sense of satisfaction and skimmed back over the entire report on the Goblin histories. Once she had made sure there were no grammatical errors, she stood and walked behind Odette's desk. Odette was researching the Centaur rebellion of 1544.

"Hey could you look this over when you get a chance?" Hermione asked and Odette put her finger in her book to save her space.

"Hmm?" Odette glanced at the rolled paper. "Oh, sure. Let me finish this and I'll be on that in a little bit."

Hermione nodded and went to sit at her desk and was glad when Conway walked by, she was just wasting time, sitting there. Conway had a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ tucked under one arm. A picture of John Dawlish stared back at her with beady eyes. The headline read, "MINISTRY TO TRY JOHN DAWLISH ON WAR CRIMES." Conway saw her glance at it.

"Oh, yeah. Dawlish, what a mess. The article is basically asking anyone with information on him to write or give a statement to the Wizengamot about him," Conway looked at her curiously. "Did you lot ever have a run in with Dawlish? I heard he was a pretty decent duelist..."

"I really don't know much about him but Neville's - a classmate of mine - grandmother did have a run in with him and a few others I'm sure. I'm sure they'll give a statement if they see the paper..." she stood so that they were more on the same level. It was strange looking up at him from her chair.

"What about others? Death Eaters? I heard you took out more than your share last year," Conway said, leaning toward her a bit when he said it.

Hermione looked at the floor. Orange carpet trimmed in red in here. "Yeah, um - I don't really like to talk too much about it all..."

Odette laughed from over at her desk. "That's why I think I like you, Hermione. You've never acted like you've been some wonderful war hero that we needed to kiss up to. You're modest," she lay down her quill, "I wanted to hate you when I found out we'd be working together but you're alright." Hermione didn't know exactly how to take that but then Odette grinned at her so Hermione assumed she meant it as a complement. Odette looked at Conway, "Oi, leave her alone, read about it in the _Daily_ if you've got to but don't pester Hermione about everything, okay?"

"Alright, alright," Conway seemed to take Odette's teasing and Hermione's non-answer fairly well. "You sound British when you say 'oi', Odette," he teased back at her as he left their area in favor of his own.

After Odette and Hermione edited the history, they went to lunch at Swelp's Soups and Sandwiches with Conway. At lunch, Hermione asked Odette a question that had been on her mind for a while.

"So, what brought you from Beauxbatons to the British Ministry of Magic?" Hermione asked, while they waited on their food.

"Well I had a wonderful teacher for, oh, what do you call it here? . . . For Care of Magical Creatures and he really encouraged that I go into the French Ministry of Magic and work for them but unfortunately, the year I graduated there were a few other people with the same idea. So, I applied here and got in when that didn't work out," Odette shrugged at her with a smile.

"Well I'm glad for one that you came here. First no attractive girls were around and then two," Conway grinned at both of them.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, uncomfortable with the familiarity. Odette said, "Shut it Conway or I'll tell Hermione about your office romance the year you joined the Department." Conway turned bright red.

"I'll thank you very much to not do that," Conway lifted his cup to hide his face.

"So what's your story Conway?" Hermione asked, trying to provide him with a way out of that conversation even though her curiosity was piqued.

"Graduated Hogwarts about seven years ago or so. . . You were in Harry Potter's year?" He asked Hermione. She nodded. "Yeah my seventh year was the year before he and you came to school I guess." They talked through the lunch break and she found out that Conway had been a Hufflepuff and had a younger brother there now in fourth year: Davidson Lewis. Hermione looked across the restaurant as they stood to leave and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley eating with another young man she couldn't see the face of. She nodded and smiled at him in a wordless greeting and he did the same. It was good to see him, she'd wondered about where some of the other muggle-borns had been last year and how they'd come out. He looked well.

Conway saw the exchange and pushed open the door for both Odette and Hermione, "And just what was that? A bit of a budding romance perhaps?"

"Not quite," she responded, stepping back into the blinding light and looking up at the bit of sky visible over the top of the shops in Diagon Alley.

"Seeing someone else then?" he asked her as they made their way onto the straightaway of the alley.

"Yes, actually. Ron Weasley, he's an Auror-in-Training," she said, pulling the sleeves of her robes down a bit. It was becoming a nervous habit she needed to break.

"Come off it Conway. You knew that. You asked me last week," Odette said, laughing as she Disapparated. In a flash, Odette reminded Hermione a bit of Ginny. French Ginny with dark brown hair, what a ball-buster. Hermione bit the inside of her mouth to keep from smirking.

"She's a real riot, that one. Shall we?" Conway was slightly flushed but Hermione nodded and they Disapparated together to go back to work.

Back at the office, Hermione helped Odette complete her compilation of the previous rights legislations by other creatures. Once they had finished it they knocked on Grayson Mathers' door to garner his approval. Grayson read over it while Odette and Hermione sat in a tense silence in his office, waiting on his approval.

"Well! I think you both did a fine job. Well written, thorough and I like that you included all the sources. Very nice - always seems to be the ones fresh out of Hogwarts that include the sources. Always a good touch. Well I was wondering if you would be the one to deliver the report in front of Tarin and the other heads of department?" That last sentence was directed at her.

Her stomach flew up into her throat with fear. "Oh, um I..." She looked at Odette who seemed as shocked as she felt. "Well I haven't been here long enough to feel comfortable doing that if that's - "

He looked momentarily disappointed but covered that up almost immediately. "Oh fine, fine. Well in that case if you would introduce me in front of the department heads and I'll deliver the report, then?"

She realized exactly what he was doing and she clenched her jaw in anger. She unhinged her teeth just enough to give him a response, "Of course."

"Great! Sounds like a plan. Good work, both of you. I'll set up the meeting and let you both know when to be there, hopefully tomorrow afternoon or the next." Grayson dismissed them both by standing and walking to his door, opening it and letting them out with a smile. "Both of you probably can head on out, it's 4:15 and I literally have nothing for you two to do for the rest of the day. See you both tomorrow." He shut his door between them.

Hermione looked at Odette, feeling outraged. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes, I can. How do you think he got to be the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office at only 34 years old? He's a wonderful politician and you're a name he can associate with directly," Odette sounded a bit put out with him. "I wouldn't worry, it'll pass probably once enough people for his liking realize you work for him and he gets enough mileage out of it." She grabbed her purse and gathered her things. Hermione did the same.

Hermione stopped by the Department of Magical Transportation to put in an application for their Floo. The woman at the desk was extremely polite and took the completed form from Hermione, only pausing for a moment to eye the three names on the paper. Once the witch had looked it over she told Hermione that it would be connected the following day and that she would owl Hermione when it had been done as a form of confirmation and to request the onetime payment of 10 Galleons. Hermione had agreed to that and left the Ministry feeling accomplished.

Hermione made it inside their wards soon and decided that with the extra time she'd try to make a nice dinner for the three of them, maybe something to redeem herself after the horrible year of starvation that they'd endured. She went into the kitchen and surveyed the contents of the fridge, making a list of things she needed on a piece of paper with a pen. There was a Muggle grocery store in town and Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to brave the magical market in town, not yet. New experiences were best tried out with the support of at least one other person, she'd always thought. Not that you needed them to help you just that it was more fun that way with another person around.

Leaving the store with a roast, a bag of rice, green beans and sundry items that would get them through the rest of the week, Hermione stepped out onto the sidewalk into the low angle, golden sun. Walking to a secure spot she could Disapparate from, Hermione noticed a man walking behind her out of the corner of her eye. He was a fairly safe distance away but something about him seemed off. Before the last year, Hermione knew she wouldn't have thought a thing about it but some instinct, some small feeling on the back of her neck made her nervous, a twinge just above a small round scar where tiny hairs stood on edge. She sped up a miniscule bit, trying to look over her shoulder as much as she could without drawing too much attention. He had shoulder length dark brown hair that was graying. She slowly wove in and out of the people on the sidewalk, wishing that more people were out and about to help her blend in a crowd. She glanced back fully: she didn't recognize his face but he was definitely looking at her. She turned left into an alley with her arms full of groceries and Disapparated the instant she was out of sight. Inside her wards, Hermione took a couple breaths. She could've just been paranoid - it could've been nothing. . . but then it could have. She resolved to tell Ron and Harry at dinner just to be on the safe side.

Once they had eaten, they discussed how their days apart had gone. Ron had studied and then filed reports, they still hadn't come up with a name for the poor muggle girl from the last week. Harry and Parnell had gone in search of Travers and had come across an overturned caldron that still contained traces of Polyjuice with several used cups around. Parnell had put out a memo to the rest of the Auror Department that Travers might be using Polyjuice and he might not be alone. Harry and Ron both looked as uneasy about that as she felt. So then that could have been . . .

She told them about the man that worried her leaving the store and Ron had clenched and unclenched his fists nervously. She tried to downplay how much it had unsettled her but Ron clearly didn't believe her.

"You don't think it could have been Travers then?" Hermione asked Harry across the table.

"The man who followed you? I doubt it but I guess we have no way to know do we?" Harry had said with a resigned tiredness. "Maybe it's nothing. Just - just keep an eye out and we will as well."

That night Hermione noticed that Ron didn't even start up the stairs to go to his room. He followed her to bed about half an hour after she'd gone inside. She hadn't even flirted with the idea of sleep yet when he shut the door quietly behind him. He was feeling around the room - still unfamiliar with the layout -and found his way to the bedside table. She heard his wand get put down on the table.

"Hey," she said.

He gasped in the darkness. "Bloody hell, Hermione. What are you trying to do give me a damn heart attack?"

She grinned as she felt his weight push her mattress down. "No, just alerting you to the fact that I wasn't asleep."

"Maybe next time," he leaned to kiss her and she could feel his torso hovering a few inches above her, "you ease into it a bit more." He kissed her again. She felt a flutter in her chest as he brought a hand to her stomach and moved it to press it into her side through her shirt. He deepened the kiss and her head pressed into the pillow. A traitorous moan worked its way out of her throat.

He leaned up to look down at her. She could barely make out his face in the dark. "Hermione?"

"Yes?" her heart started racing.

"That man earlier?"

"Oh. . .I . . .yeah?" Oh that's what this was about, she'd thought -

"If you ever see him again please send a message to mum and dad by Floo or owl us or get somewhere safe, ok?"

"I did get somewhere safe today," she prickled a bit at the implication she couldn't take care of herself and felt him shift a bit to settle in beside her in the bed.

"No, you know what I mean. Get somewhere safe and let someone know and maybe we could catch him that way you don't have to worry about him, alright?" She knew him well enough without seeing him that she knew that his eyebrows would be furrowed and his eyes would be trained on her face.

"Alright, I will. I promise," she said softly but still a bit peeved that he didn't think she could manage.

"Alright, good," he said, pulling her to him to kiss her deeply she twisted so that her body and his were pressed full against each other. One of her arms got trapped underneath her and she used the other to trail fingertips up and down Ron's side through his shirt while he pressed his lips to hers. Her heart rate thundered against his chest as he brought the hand that wrapped around her side lower to just above her bum. She squirmed against him with a longing she knew they shouldn't and wouldn't fulfill that night.

He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down on the mattress. Suddenly, he was over her, laying between her legs and running his hands over her through her clothes. His passion made her feel a combination of wanted and guilty. Wanted because she had made him want her this badly. Guilty because she knew they weren't going any farther than they had just a couple nights ago. Ron didn't ask about her boundaries, instead letting her mostly set the pace that night. They kissed until Hermione was breathless and knew if they went any farther she wouldn't be able or want to stop from exploring each other further. They settled in for the night, both fully clothed, both breathing heavily, neither one satisfied. Hermione had the most revealing set of dreams that night about Ron that she'd ever had.


	22. Torture and Strength

_. . . Chapter 22_

_. . . Torture and Strength . . . _

* * *

Ron woke up slowly, remembering the delicious dinner the night before and then the amazing girl sleeping on the other side of the bed. Her shirt had ridden up just a bit in the night and from the way she was laying, Ron saw the delicate swell of her hip bone and the smooth, flat skin of her stomach. It took every ounce of self control that he had not to wake her and snog her senseless that instant.

Once at the Ministry, Hermione had split from them going to her office instead of the new room for the meetings without much of an explanation. Harry and Ron had already been in their seats at the oval table in the new room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for twenty four minutes according to Ron's watch. He had had the time to notice that their new room was lit by orbs similar to the ones he had produced with his Deluminator on the way back to Hermione and Harry. The only difference was that those had been warm and yellow while these had a sickly blue tint and bobbed uneasily just below the white plaster ceiling. The light bounced eerily off of a reflective silver table and lit up their faces from below like a child would with his play-wand when telling scary stories.

"Ron," Harry said, "it will be fine."

Swallowing hard, Ron replied with a shaky, "Yeah." He did not miss the slightly hesitant tone in Harry's voice. They'd figured out exactly what they were in for when Hermione had let them get off the lift without coming with them.

Ron jumped when the heavy mahogany door groaned on its hinges. Percy's face emerged and he strode over to Harry and whispered something. Harry nodded. Before Ron could ask, Percy was at his right side with a hand placed on Ron's shoulder.

"Alright, Ron?"

"As good as can be. Do we need to send for Parnell?" Ron asked. He had never been this anxious to start one of these meetings. He couldn't even keep his leg from bouncing long enough to take a deep breath and calm down.

"I don't think so," Percy said, "passed him in the hallway. Said he'd be a few minutes late, something about a misfiled report on Dolohov. But he'll be here."

Lenora brushed into the room like smoke and took her seat at the oblong table. Ron let out a breath when she took the spot next to him. He made himself busy examining the stitches on the cuff of his jacket. He did not have to look up to know that Harry, as he was, was dreading what they would review and transcribe today, Malfoy Manor and Hermione. Hermione, to Ron's dismay, had chosen not to speak to Ron and Harry about it. She'd decided not to attend this meeting because it was too difficult, she'd explained this morning. Then she'd reminded them to read the note that Lenora had, they told her they'd remember.

"One more. Then we're all set," Lenora chirped.

Harry had started to tap his fingers on the black leather of his seat as he looked around the room, trying to find something to amuse himself until Parnell walked in. Ron shot Harry a glare and Harry had the sense to quit the noise without quips or questioning.

Parnell burst through the door. Booming the whole way to his spot at the table, "Sorry, I was handling the Dolohov case. Nutter has been going around calling himself Yak McGunth for months now - since the battle at Hogwarts. Incredibly strong "_Obliviate_" with a mean sting to it. Last person he was seen battling with was Flitwick - teaches at Hogwarts! Dolohov still does know who he is but he now has a wild passion for gardening, experimenting with types of grass and fertilizers. Had it filed under McGunth."

Harry and Ron met eyes and shared a smirk. Ron had to remember to tell Hermione about that and to congratulate Professor Flitwick on a wicked spell.

"Well! Now that we're all here. Shall we begin?" Parnell's strong voice vibrated the whole room and the blue orbs shook.

"Ok, well Ms. Granger has written us a note before we dive into her memory with the instruction we read it aloud before we proceed." Lenora stated. "Ready? Ok:

It is my hope that this information is useful to you in your pursuit of the remaining Death Eaters; however, I am not sure exactly how useful it will be. My memory from that day can be considered fuzzy at best, so hopefully this is more clear to you than it is to me. I've given the vial to Lenora with instruction to read this note to the group. It is highly important to me that Ron and Harry not view this - "

"What does she mean? Not view this!" Harry's face was horrified.

"Please, let me finish Mr. Potter." Lenora said without looking up. She resumed:

"Ron and Harry not view this in light of how disturbed the three of us were after the event. I know I have continued to have nightmares about the experience we shared there and I don't feel that either one of them should share any more than necessary in the burden of what happened that day. Thank you and I hope it helps.

Hermione"

Lenora looked up at Ron and Harry and their matching mystified faces and said, "Well, that's it for you for the day. Please vacate your seats and we will call you back in if necessary."

"Please, we've already been through this once and she doesn't talk about it much to us. We only just found out that her parents were murdered but she's known since we were at the Malfoys'." Harry glanced at Ron expecting back up but Ron couldn't speak. Maybe Hermione was trying to protect herself from Harry and Ron knowing. Why would she need to worry what we think?

Harry turned back to Lenora and Parnell. "She's our best friend just... just let us go with you. We might be able to help explain or - or something." Ron knew that Harry had been curious about what took place in the manor though; that it was a selfish request. Hermione had talked to Ron and Shell Cottage a little about it but had not filled Harry in as well as she had Ron. It still stung Ron to know she had left pieces out like about her parents, however, and he looked up at Parnell when he cleared his throat.

"Alright." Parnell sighed, "let's have a look. But you don't tell her and we won't have any problems. I can't have her threaten me or hex me, spells that she knows."

Lenora took out the vial with her long, red tipped fingers and let the slivery thread fall gracefully into the Pensieve. "I must renew my request that you both leave for the duration of this memory," Lenora said looking tense.

"Harry, maybe we shouldn't - " Ron whispered from behind his hand so that maybe Lenora wouldn't hear.

"Ron, we might be able to help. Besides, we've already done this once. How hard could it be?" Harry said slightly louder. Ron didn't see the fault in his logic, just the fault in his emotional recollection of the thing. They were about to watch Hermione be tortured. Everyone at the table stood up and leaned in.

In a matter of seconds, Percy, Parnell, Lenora, Ron, and Harry were standing in the forest as Hermione claimed to be Penelope Clearwater - Half Blood.

_Scabior leaned in closer to Hermione's face. "Easy enough to check. But the 'ole lot of 'em look like they could still be 'ogwarts age-" _

_"We'b lebt," a bloody Ron said through his sticky red fingers. _

The current Ron recoiled at the sight of himself and looked somewhere else only to have his eyes fall on a hungry looking Greyback who was staring right at Hermione.

_"Left, 'ave you, ginger?" Scabior sneered. "And you decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?" _

Ron looked over at Percy who had a smirk on his face and darkly thought how soon that smirk would be replaced with horror. Lenora was swiftly transcribing the whole exchange onto a roll of parchment. He was impressed with it once again. How could any one's quill move that fast? He realized he was missing some of his own discussion with the Snatchers and tried to still his racing mind.

_"We'll see. Bind them up with the other two prisoners." Greyback barked._

Ron watched as a horribly disfigured Harry was dragged and bound as were bloody Ron and a shaking Hermione. They all heard Harry ask_ "Anyone still got a wand?"_

_"No." Ron and Hermione answered together. _

Parnell was obviously listening in more to Scabior and Greyback's discussion and Ron realized with jolt that was what he and Harry should be doing as well instead of watching themselves, he elbowed Harry and they followed Parnell to the group of Snatchers. Hermione had been able to just barely hear them, obviously. She hadn't had a clear view of them; however, so everything looked a bit smudged. They heard all of the voices a bit muddled but easy enough to make out if you strained.

_"- and Clearwater. Wouldn't hate to keep 'er around. 'stead of givin her up for the gold." Scabior muttered._

_"Well, worse: Miss Pretty could be worth nothing then we give her up and get nothing in return." Greyback said with an edge._

_"She's bound ta' be worth something, school aged. We'll get somethin for 'er." Scabior said, turning toward the tied group of captives._

_"Not a bad little haul for one night." Greyback said, admiring their catch. "A Mudblood, a runaway goblin, and three truants. You checked their names on the list yet, Scabior?"_

_"Yeah. There's no Vernon Dudley on 'ere, Greyback."_

Ron realized just how crazy Harry had been to use his uncle's name first name. Didn't the Death Eaters know about his muggle family?

Greyback bent down to look at Harry and Ron looked at Hermione's face. She looked terrified and pale and Ron could see the sweat gathering on her forehead. She had only a little while longer before she was about to be tortured within an inch of her life and she had no idea. Ron tore his eyes away from his Hermione and caught back up in the conversation.

_"Well, well," said Greyback. "If you're telling the truth, ugly, you've got nothing to fear from a trip to the Ministry. I expect your father'll reward us just for picking you up."_

Ron heard Harry's desperate plea as he looked at Greyback. _"But, if you just let us -"_

_"Hey! Look at this, Greyback!"_

Ron's heart sank as he heard Scabior's triumphant shout. Reliving this was harder than he had imagined. Just as he was starting to hope they'd be released on a technicality, the bleeding sword.

_"Very nice. Oh very nice indeed. Looks goblin-made, that. Where did you get something like this?"_

_"It's my father's. We borrowed it to cut firewood-" _

_"'ang on a minute, Greyback! Look at this, in the Prophet!"_

Ron saw the memory Harry's eyes fluttering and his brow contorted, his scar. He must've been in Voldemort's mind at the time then. He was jolted out of his consideration of Harry by Scabior's reading.

_"'ermione Granger, the Mudblood who is known to be traveling with 'arry Pottter,'" Scabior drawled._

Percy crossed between Ron and Hermione looking a bit sick. Ron realized that Hermione had just pretended to be Percy's ex-girlfriend. He wondered if he was putting Penelope's face on Hermione or if he realized now how much trouble they were in. Hermione's face had gone from pale to transparent. She looked like she was having trouble breathing.

_"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you," Greyback said with a smile._

_"It isn't! It isn't me!" but Hermione was visibly struggling to breathe and Greyback turned back to the paper. _

The whole group, memory and Reviewers, was silent except for Lenora's scratching quill.

_Greyback's expression had faded into something infinitely more serious. "Well, this changes things, doesn't it?"_

Ron, Harry, and Percy stood frozen watching Hermione's shaking form. Ron knew that next they would decide they had Harry with his scar and the glasses. He shut his eyes and his mind and tried to think about Hermione being at their house in Ottery St. Catchpole when he got home that night. She'd be in the living room, reading a book, petting the orange fluff ball. He and Harry would come in. They'd decide what to have at dinner. She'd let him into her bed again and he'd get to hold her that night. . .

_"To hell with the Ministry. They'll take the credit, and we won't get a look in. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who," Greyback snarled._

_"Will you summon 'im? 'ere?" Scabior asked, obviously uneasy._

_"No, I haven't got - they say he's using the Malfoy's place as a base. We'll take the boy there." Greyback answered._

"They broke You-Know-Who's own protocol?" Parnell asked, incredulously. "Not wise of -"

"You'll taint the transcript," Lenora said harshly.

Parnell made eye contact and nodded at Harry and Ron, as if it were a reminder to them and wasn't aimed at him at all.

_"We need to be sure before jus showing at the Malfoy place! Are you completely sure it's him? 'Cause if it ain't, Greyback, we're dead." _

_"Who's in charge here? I say that's Potter, and plus his wand, that's two hundred thousand Galleons right there! But if you're too gutless to come along, any of you, it's all for me, and with any luck, I'll get the girl thrown in!" Greyback roared at Scabior._

As he finished his tirade, Greyback looked at Hermione with a look of lust and hunger that was so thinly veiled, Ron took a step back onto Harry's foot. When Ron turned to apologize, Harry wasn't even looking at Ron, he was staring at Greyback with a rage equal to what Ron felt.

_"All right!" said Scabior."All right, we're in! And what about the rest of 'em, Greyback, what'll we do with 'em?"_

_Greyback answered, surveying the group, "Might as well take the lot. We've got two Mudbloods, that's another ten Galleons. Give me the sword as well. If they're rubies, that's another small fortune right there."_

All the Reviewers took a step back as all the captives were hauled up. Scabior had unceremoniously grabbed Hermione's hair and yanked her off the ground. She had tears in her eyes, sweat on her brow and was breathing so fast. All Ron wanted was to reach out and touch her. Then Ron saw it, Scabior's right arm was wrapped around Hermione's small frame, hand placed deliberately on her breast. Greyback had hold of Harry's hair.

Ron felt his blood boil as the captives and Snatchers Disapparated. He and Harry looked at each other, mirrors of fury, and then around them. The Apparition through a memory was just as disorienting as before - more, almost, since he was trying to keep his eyes trained on the blur that he thought was Hermione.

The captives and Reviewers landed in front of a daunting pair of wrought-iron gates that would have been beautiful if everything in this place didn't have a pulsing evil feel.

_"How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't - blimey." _

_The gate was forming a demonic face which addressed the group. "State your purpose!"_

_"We've got Potter! We've captured Harry Potter." Greyback roared._

Ron glanced at Harry beside him at this. Harry's skin had turned a pale green and Ron knew he had just realized what they were about to see. They had only heard Hermione being tortured. This was about to be so much worse. . . Her voice rang out in the worst of his nightmares. Now he and Harry would witness it. He realized, as his stomach dropped through his feet, maybe Hermione wasn't trying to hide anything from him and Harry maybe she had realized as was dawning on Ron exactly how horrible it might be to witness her torture from right beside her. . . .

Stiffly, all the Reviewers made their way, following the captives. Lenora managed to keep writing as she walked. Inhuman.

As the captives arrived at the door, Narcissa Malfoy's cold face appeared. _"What is this?"_

_"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Greyback said, breathlessly with his eyes glowing. _

_"Who are you?" Narcissa purred._

_"You know me! Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!" _

Ron and Parnell stood side by side as Greyback pulled Harry into the light.

"You all sure were lucky to get out of this alive. The Malfoy's, Greyback, Scabior, and you said Lestrange was there too? Unbelievable. How long were you held here for?" Parnell whispered to Ron.

"Oh, uh...Not really sure. It felt like... like an hour or more maybe?" Ron breathed back.

"Lenora will time it for the record. Blimey, hope we get a few more arrests out of this."

The group started forward into the house and the Reviewers watched all of the prisoners get kicked and shoved up the steps and into the house. Hermione was slightly behind where the memory Ron and Harry were. All three were still tied together. Scabior was groping a hand up and down Hermione's backside between shoves and prodding her with his wand in the back of her neck where an angry red spot was being rubbed raw.

_"What is this?" Lucius Malfoy's voice flowed over the marble floor._

In the memory, Harry was glancing all around the room looking for a way out. Ron was glaring a hole into the back of Greyback's head and Hermione was looking at a scuff on the marble, visibly trying to think.

_"They say they've got Potter. Draco, come here."_

_Greyback maneuvered the group so that Draco could seem them more clearly. "Well, boy?"_

Hermione looked up at Draco, a pleading look.

_"Well, Draco?" Lucius asked. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"_

_"I can't - I can't be sure," said Draco. _

Ron turned to Lenora and pointed at Draco. Intending for her to write that Draco had avoided confirming their identities. Still hated the git but he had tried what he could to not turn Harry in and had shown some level of humanity with the burial of Hermione's parents. Lenora shot Ron a don't-mess-with-me-I'm-writing-look so Ron turned back to the scene at hand.

_"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything with be forgiv-"_

_"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy? Greyback asked._

_"Of course not, of course not! What did you do to him? How did he get into this state? Lucius asked Greyback._

_"That wasn't us."_

Ron noticed Hermione had started to inch closer to memory Ron as much as she could in their bonds. She was wiggling her fingers frantically as if trying to catch his hand. He had never noticed. He felt the first prick of tears in his eyes.

_"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me." Lucius moved in closer to Harry. "There's something there, it could be the scar, stretched tight...Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"_

Draco reluctantly moved forward and looked miserable as he said_ "I don't know." _

_"We had better be certain, Lucius. Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord... They say this is his" - she looked at Harry's wand - "but it does not resemble Ollivanders description...If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing...Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"_

Dolohov. Yak McGunth now though, wasn't he?

_"What about the Mudblood, then?" growled Greyback as he pushed the bound group so that Hermione became the focus. He grabbed her at the waist and pulled her forward so the whole group stumbled._

_"Wait. Yes - yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"_

Draco didn't even look up at Hermione's terrified face for more than a second_. "I...maybe...yeah."_

_"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" shouted Lucius. "it's them, Potter's friends - Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name -?_

_"Yeah, it could be." Draco said, back turned._

For an instant Ron felt sorry for Draco. The git had always hated Harry, Ron, and Hermione but he didn't want them murdered either so that was something.

The Reviewers turned as a door opened behind the prisoners and Bellatrix Lestrange's voice echoed through the large space.

_"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?" _

Bellatrix walked around the group of prisoners. Ron's eyes could have killed her. She stopped in front of Hermione. Bellatrix roughly grasped Hermione's chin and forced her to look up.

_"But surely, this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"_

_"Yes, yes, it's Granger! And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!" Lucius was so excited he could hardly contain himself._

_"Potter? Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!"_

Ron turned away knowing they were soon to find the sword. He walked over next to Percy.

"It's gonna be bad you know." Ron warned Percy, quietly so Lenora wouldn't scold them.

"I know, but," Percy put his hand on Ron's arm, "this is how we're going to have to identify who all was here. Hermione told Parnell that she thought some people had walked in briefly but she was in too much pain to really study their faces. We're hoping there is enough left to this memory that we can identify them."

Ron nodded and listened to Bellatrix Stupefy the snatchers, all except Greyback.

"_Where did you get this sword?" She asked Greyback under her breath._

_"How dare you?" He retorted. "Release me, woman!"_

_"Where did you find this sword? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"_

_"It was in their tent. Release me, I say!"_

_"Draco, move this scum outside," Bellatrix said, motioning to the fallen Snatchers. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."_

_"Don't you dare speak to Draco like -" Narcissa started to take up for Draco._

_"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!" She paused as she looked at the sword. "If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed. The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself...But if he finds out...I must...I must know...The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"_

_"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my-" _

_"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!"_

Ron looked at that bitch's eyes. This had been a mistake. His hatred of her and concern for Hermione was blinding him. Here she was, the one who tortured Hermione and the one who killed Tonks and the one who had ruined Neville's family. He was not going to do any good or help the Reviewers or the task force with this. He wanted out before the torture started. He couldn't catch Harry's eye.

_"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback." Narcissa said._

_"Wait," _Ron got the chills in expectation._ "All except...except for the Mudblood."_

_Greyback looked at Hermione with a grin and grunted with pleasure._

_"No! You can have me, keep me!" Ron yelled. _

Oh, how he wished they had. But would he have been brave enough, smart enough to know to say what Hermione had said? He edged over to Harry and Harry nodded - being closer together made this a little less terrifying. Harry was evidence that they live - they all survive this. Harry didn't look at him long enough for them to communicate anything between them.

_Bellatrix hit Ron across the face and said, "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next. Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them - yet." _

'If she dies under questioning' bounced and echoed in Ron's head. He'd forgotten that she'd said that. Ron watched himself and Harry get led away with the group. Percy, Harry and Ron turned to Hermione standing before Bellatrix. Lenora was scribbling somewhere out of sight. Parnell took to watching the Malfoys closely.

_"Well, Mudblood. Let's see if you can make your little friends hear you from the basement. Cruicio!" _

Lenora gasped from behind Ron as Hermione fell screaming to the marble, her temple connecting with the smooth floor in a sickening thud. Ron looked away and up at the ceiling and heard his own shouts from the basement mingling with Hermione's long scream. He counted to 47 before Hermione's scream died down and he looked at Bellatrix through the tears gathering in his eyes.

"_Oh, how fun. Mudblood has some lungs! Now, where did you get that sword?"_

Ron looked at Hermione, her eyes were unfocused looking at the hem of Bellatrix's skirt as small trickle blood dripped down the side of her face where she had hit the floor.

_"Crucio!" _

Hermione's small body arched off of the marble floor with another scream, her fingers contorted unnaturally and her eyes squeezed shut so hard that her eyelashes were almost hidden. Ron looked over at the Malfoys and saw that Draco was playing with a string, wrapping and unwrapping his hand. He was doing what Ron was doing now - trying to be anywhere but where they were, concentrate on something other than the torture of the girl on the floor. The scream let up and Ron looked down at the girl he was in love with writhing on the floor.

_"Now tell me or I'll scar your filthy Mudblood skin for life! Where did you get the sword?"_

_"Please...please." Hermione sobbed._

_"NEXT TIME I ASK, YOU WILL ANSWER ME! PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! Greyback, you'll help. Now, Mudblood. Let us give you something so that you'll always know your place. Greyback, if she moves at all you're to hold her. Otherwise, don't touch. This is going to be a masterpiece. CRUCIO! Oooh, very nice. Can't move, Mudblood?"_

Ron watched in horror as Greyback sat beside Hermione's head while she screamed, unable to move any part of her body at all, save for her mouth. Greyback was rolling some of Hermione's hair in his hand and sniffing it as Bellatrix bent over Hermione's arm with a knife. Hermione's scream stopped abruptly when Bellatrix was at the "L". Ron was relieved, thinking the curse had lifted, until he saw she had passed out.

_"Oh boo, we can't have that can we Greyback? Ruins the fun! Plus we want her friends to know what not cooperating means for them. Rennervate!" _

Hermione's scream was delayed for a split second and then washed over the group of Reviewers like a tsunami. Greyback leaned over Hermione's face.

_"Pretty, I'm next. And the scars I'll give you? You won't be so pretty for long." Greyback grabbed Hermione's face with one hand and grabbed at her chest roughly with his other. He licked the blood rolling down the side of Hermione's face and with his lips covered in her blood tried to force his tongue inside her mouth._

_"Ha. She's so filthy, who would have her? Even you had higher standards than that, I thought. Just wait, you'll have her later. Almost done...and...ah a masterpiece."_

Bellatrix stood off of Hermione and lifted the cruciatus. Hermione had tears rolling down her face that mingled with blood as she looked up at the high ceiling and was breathing in short, shallow breaths. She couldn't catch her breath and was shaking so violently that Ron thought she might be under another curse. Greyback stood as well, eyes firmly on Hermione. Ron couldn't concentrate on anything else besides Hermione. Why had he and Harry wanted to come? Wanted to see this? He wiped at the tears coating his face. He realized suddenly that he was shaking almost as violently as Hermione.

_"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" Bellatrix asked._

_"We found it - we found it - PLEASE!" _

"_Crucio! Now I'm tired of the lying, we can do this one of two ways. You tell me, I kill you quickly. Or you don't tell me, I torture you until you can't remember who you are anymore and Greyback gets a new play thing to ravish and then feast on. Your choice, filthy scum. Tongue looser now?"_

In the middle of Bellatrix's taunt, the whole room shook around the Reviewers and started to spin, turning a dizzying shade of red and a sound started loudly like drums in their ears. Harry grabbed Ron's arm -

"What's happening?" Harry yelled at Parnell.

"It's her mind. She warned me that her memory was damaged. This is what she was seeing and hearing. That's probably her -" Parnell cut himself off.

Losing her mind. Ron mentally finished the thought, terrified.

Out from under the curse, vision returned to normal but the colors looked a little faded after the vivid red and the sound of the pounding in her ears must have quieted. Hermione was trying to back away from Bellatrix, scooting across the floor using her legs and leaving a tiny trail of bright red across the cold white marble. Draco was green in the corner and even Narcissa had a look Ron recognized as horror. Hermione was shaking her head vigorously and Ron heard her tiny response.

_"We found it."_

_"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"_

_"We f-"_

_"CRUCIO! What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" _

Ron turned to Harry as Hermione screamed another scream, more horrible than before and the room started to melt away in front of them with the hammering and Hermione's scream drowning out all reason. The look of panic in Harry's eyes matched how Ron knew he must look. But they had made it through this? They were all ok and this would be over. Ron grabbed Harry's upper arm for support. Ron saw tears on Harry's face. Ron knew now that Hermione had never wanted them to see this and she had never discussed it in its entirety because...these images were never going away.

_"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO." _

This time Ron shut his eyes and cupped his hands over his ears. He knew the room would be turned into a blurred kaleidoscope, there would be a sickening red tint to his vision, and the pounding heartbeat was sure to be pounding into their ears. He had to have known - hadn't he? He had known this would bad. But this bad? Greyback touching her, practically forcing himself on her, planning to rape her while she was tortured to the last point of sanity? Tortured to the point of not being able to see or hear properly? He realized he had gone from crying to sobbing when he felt that the front of his shirt was wet with his elbows as he folded in on himself, still holding his ears. She lives, Ron. She lives. She lives. She's alive. At home tonight, in bed. His hands would be in her hair. . .

_"How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"_

The curse lifted, Ron looked at the rest of the group he had come with. Lenora was furiously writing but tears stained her face and left dark green splotches on her light green silk blouse. The parchment Lenora was holding had dark wet spots all over it. Even Parnell was wiping his eyes furiously. Percy had his face in his hands, not looking at anything. Harry was whispering something over and over, something about it's not real or it's not here, with more tears in his eyes. Why had they done this? Had this helped anything? He felt like he might get sick.

_"We only met him tonight! We've never been inside your vault...It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"_

_"A copy? Oh, a likely story!" Bellatrix screamed._

_"But we can find out easily! Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" Lucius commanded._

Hermione was crumpled on her side on the floor as Bellatrix sauntered over.

"_You know, there is something juicy I've got to tell you, Mudblood." Bellatrix paused long enough to kick Hermione in the stomach. "My friend Crabbe went over to your parents' house on the first of August when you and all your blood traitor friends were having that pathetic wedding." Another kick was aimed at Hermione's back now as Bellatrix circled her. "You know, your parents didn't even know who you were when they asked. Good charm work. Too bad you didn't get them hidden though, they planned to leave on the third for Australia." She pulled Hermione's hair so that Hermione had to look up, her eyes were glossy. "They died a bit too quickly for me but, oh, all the same, mummy and daddy died with no idea they had a little daughter who had cursed them into oblivion before running off." Bellatrix backed away from Hermione grinning. Hermione made hazy eye contact with Draco and he answered her unasked question with an almost invisible empathetic look and a nod. _

Ron watched as Hermione swallowed a sob for her parents. Then out of the corner of his eye, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange entered the room, followed closely by McNair. There they were. Three more Death Eaters, but they were three names that the Aurors had already. Rodolphus was killed in the battle at Hogwarts. Rabastan was in hiding but Aurors believed they were closing in on him. McNair in Azkaban for the murder of Colin Creevey arrested at Hogwarts. Nothing gained, Ron knew he was about to throw up . . .

_" Crucio!"_

The room melted from the perimeter into the center of the room from the extravagant room it was into an all red box, beating with an echoing scream. Hermione's voice suddenly filled the box in a muffled echo:

_"Lacewing flies, antimony, lacewing flies, leeches, lacewing flies, lace..."_

Ron didn't need to look at Parnell to know, she was trying to distract herself, create a space where she was alone and where she couldn't be hurt. Neville's parents sprang horribly, instantly to his mind. She was trying to remember Polyjuice Potion's ingredients. She couldn't even list the things coherently - how was she still lying to Bellatrix? Ron's sobs were drowned out by all the noise in Hermione's memory. Beats, Screaming, _"fluxweed, Sal Ammoniac."_

Then the screams stopped and the red faded to black and for a few seconds: complete peace.

_"Rennervate! You filthy Mudblood. We're not done playing yet!"_

Hermione must have only been partially conscious because after that they could hear bits and pieces but could only see the blackness of Hermione's tortured mind.

_"- true sword?_

_"No. - ake."_

_"- sure?" _

_"Good- the Dark Lord!"_

_" - dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take - "_

"_NOOOOOOO!" _

Ron shut his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. It was almost over. It is almost over. About to leave with Dobby and Hermione will be at home. Within the blackness of the memory, Harry had grabbed his hand and was squeezing it painfully.

_"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix roared. "wands - ... filthy her blood is!"_

_"...Potter - approach."_

_"Greyback - Mudblood."_

Then the whole memory went black, the injuries from the chandelier must have pushed Hermione into unconsciousness, and Ron felt the pull taking them out of Hermione's memory back into the stark and eerie whitish-blue room.

Lenora was white faced beside Ron with tears streaming down her face, parchment unfinished. Ron promptly turned his head to the side and got sick on the floor. Instead of the usual summary Lenora said, "Capture and escape, Malfoy Manor. Duration of testimony, fifty three minutes."

Percy stood and stared at the orbs above with his hands on the top of his head. Harry collapsed into his chair with his head in his hands. Ron cleaned up his sick with a quick spell and looked down at the silver, reflective surface of the table and the glowing orbs' reflection. Before Parnell could get out of the room, Ron heard him double over and retch unproductively before straightening his garishly bright tie and leaving the room.

After a few minutes had gone by, Ron looked up and saw Harry looking at him. Lenora had left during the time Ron and Harry had been immobile and trapped in their own thoughts.

"You alright?" Harry asked him. Ron nodded but was nowhere near alright.

Percy asked them if they wanted to go on an early break for lunch. Harry agreed. Ron told them he wasn't hungry but he'd go with him if Hermione would go. The three men stood and left the Reviewers' conference room, the mahogany door slamming shut behind them. Ron made sure that Harry didn't think he looked like too much of a mess to see Hermione and got off of the lift on the floor of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He made up his mind that he would not be going anywhere that day without her by his side.


	23. Dates and Sightings

_. . . Chapter 23_

_. . . Dates and Sightings . . . _

* * *

Hermione woke up with two strong arms wrapped tightly around her the next morning. She twisted in his arms to face him in the tangle of sheets. While he was still asleep, Hermione could study the freckles that dusted his face and the stubbly facial hair that popped up - a couple different shades of red. She brought her hand to his face and leaned in to kiss his lips lightly. His eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes slowly. He squinted at her and looked a combination of confused and angry. She felt a bit chagrined.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"S'ok. Morning," he tightened his grip on her and buried his face in her hair. After a minute or so of his breath warming her neck through her hair he asked, "what time is it?"

She lifted her head enough to look at the old fashioned clock beside the bed, "seven o'clock."

"Breakfast?" he asked her through her hair.

"Scones?" she offered, running her fingers through his silky ginger hair and letting her nails graze his scalp.

"Mmm." He kissed her neck once, stealing her breath away, and leaned away from her to look her in the eye. "I want to take you on another date."

He said it so plainly that she grinned. "Alright, Friday?" she asked.

"Friday it is," he agreed.

She stretched and he unfortunately loosened his grip on her. Then she was struck with a sudden urge. "Let's do something completely stupid."

He laughed and she felt her chest tighten with a sort of giddy happiness. "Like what?"

"Like laser tag or dancing or mini-golf. Something muggle and ridiculous. Something we've never done before!" She was getting excited just thinking about it. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Ron who looked apprehensive at best.

"Hermione, I have no idea what laser tag is or mini-golf. I'll go dancing but it's not going to be pretty."

She grinned at him, "I don't care. Let's just go and have fun and be eighteen for a little while." She could tell he was still hesitant but he eventually relented. She mourned the loss when he released her and he hopped out of bed to go get ready in the upstairs bathroom, Hermione went into the kitchen and popped the ready-made scones she bought at the grocery store in the oven to heat. She set the timer for ten minutes and rushed through her shower. When she got back into the kitchen with her hair still wet, the timer was just counting down to one minute. She went in front of the mirror in the living room and quickly dried her hair with her wand. Hermione opened the oven door with her hand and then levitated the pan out and set it on the stovetop to cool. She folded a paper towel in half and _accioed_ a scone into her paper towel and took it back to her room to finish getting ready. Clockwork.

At eight o'clock exactly, the three of them walked into the meeting room. Hermione noticed Harry had been a bit quieter since yesterday and she started to wonder if she'd done something wrong or anything. She knew Harry had gone to the Burrow to see Ginny last night - could Ginny have said something? What would Ginny have to say that would upset Harry, she wondered. Then she thought maybe he was mad that she'd told Lenora not to let them view the memory, he could just get over that. She'd done that for their own good. Ron seemed fine with it so Hermione resolved to ignore Harry's unsettled moodiness. Inside the room, Hermione saw floating blue orbs over an ornate silver table. The new room was breathtakingly beautiful. Comfortable looking black leather chairs lined the table. Parnell looked up at her and Hermione worked to avoid his eyes.

Lenora was waiting as well. She looked tired today, Hermione noticed Lenora glance up and give a small smile to Hermione. She saw a bit of pity buried beneath the smile. Damn it, exactly what she hadn't wanted. Percy was seated there as well with bald concern written on his face. She could take it better from Percy, being a Weasley - albeit the flaky one - afforded him certain rights in Hermione's mind.

As the trio of friends took their seats, Hermione folded her hands in her lap and looked at Lenora.

"Well? Did it help?" she was loathe to bring it up but was curious as to who it had been in the memory.

"Um, yes and no," Lenora squirmed in her seat and ran a slender hand through her hair. "It was Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, and Walden McNair."

Hermione let her brain process the information, "McNair is in Azkaban for life...Rabastan is...?"

"Rabastan Lestrange is on the loose but we've got Keyling on his case and they are tracking his believed movements," Parnell spoke very matter -of-factly, "Rodolphus Lestrange was killed by an unknown at the battle of Hogwarts."

"So... It might help with Rabastan, then?" she asked, clutching at something to make giving her most horrible memory away not feel so worthless.

Parnell smiled at her, it was genuine. "It might, Hermione, it might."

A silence fell over the room and Hermione nodded at Lenora.

"Right, well... today what are we covering?" Lenora set up her standard meeting tools. Her game face was back on, Hermione noticed.

Hermione heard Harry muttering quietly to himself, "Manor...Shell Cottage...Polyjuice...Gringotts," his voice got louder, "Next we spent about a month at Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur Weasley's residence, and then we broke into Gringotts to get the next Horcrux from Bellatrix Lestrange's vault." Shell Cottage made her remember Fleur gently combing her hair for any remaining pieces of glass in a vivid flash.

"And may be have a memory to keep on record of this event?"

Harry nodded and looked to Ron, who nodded, and then to Hermione who gestured for Harry to go ahead with her hand. Parnell and Percy were already standing in anticipation of slipping into the memory. Harry rose and dropped the silvery memory into the Pensieve. A moment later, all six Reviewers were tumbling into the semi-dark garden.

Harry, Ron, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Griphook were conversing comfortably in a little cluster. Hermione heard Lenora gasp and quickly explained, "It's me, Polyjuice."

_"She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay , Ron, come here so I can do you ..." _

Hermione blushed at the double entendre in her words.

_"Right, but remember, I don't like the beard too long - " Ron said._

_"Oh, for heaven's sake, this isn't about looking handsome - " _

The Bellatrix-Hermione flailed her hands around in obvious irritation and Hermione looked at the Ron beside her. He reached his hand up and brushed a curl behind her ear before letting his hand come to rest on her shoulder. Every touch practically lit her on fire and she couldn't wait until that evening when they could steal a few moments alone with each other: mouth on mouth.

_"It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time." _

Hermione leaned to bump her hip against Ron's thigh teasingly as they watched her alter Ron's identity.

_"There, how does he look, Harry?"_

_"Well, he's not my type, but he'll do. Shall we go then?" said Harry._

Hermione must've been too nervous at the time to catch his joke but this time she let herself laugh a bit at it. Harry turned to look around at her when she laughed and grinned. Then the Reviewers were moving with the memory beyond the boundary of the garden wall.

_"I should climb up now, Harry Potter, I think?" Griphook spoke for the first time._

Hermione watched the woman she was impersonating easily toss the Invisibility Cloak over Harry and Griphook. It had been a bit nice being a bit taller even if it had been in the body of such an evil person.

_"Perfect, I can't see a thing. Let's go." _

They Disapparated within the memory and then went through the Leaky Cauldron. She watched people recoil away from her in her horrific disguise.

_"Madam Lestrange," Tom said. _

_"Good morning," said Hermione. _

_"Too polite!" _The Reviewers heard an invisible Harry whisper. _"You need to treat people like they're scum!"_

_"Okay, okay!" Hermione whispered back._

Hermione watched Bellatrix Lestrange lift her wand and even though she knew it was her in there, the sight gave her chills. She repressed a shudder and flicked her hair around the right side of her neck. In half an instant, Ron's hand pressed reassuringly against her shoulder. A rush of gratitude filled her mind as the wall to Diagon Alley opened to reveal the brick archway. As the Reviewers followed the group in the memory closely they saw person after person melt away from Bellatrix in fear. One man with a bloodied bandage over one eye jumped in front of the Bellatrix-Hermione.

_"My children! Where are my children? What has he done with them? You know, _you know!"

The man was bellowing in the face of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione felt so sorry that his children were gone - dead most likely. But if she had actually been Bellatrix Lestrange that had been yelled at publicly, this man would have been killed or tortured.

_"I - I really - " Hermione sputtered._

The man lunged at the memory Hermione, reaching his hands up to her throat. A stunner hit him before he could reach her. Ron had thrown the spell at her would-be attacker. She leaned against the hand against her neck. Her pulse beat hard under his fingers and she wondered if he could feel it. Her stomach fluttered, remembering waking up in his sturdy arms that morning. He'd jumped to protect her so quickly. The thought made her throat dry.

_"Why, Madam Lestrange!" _The Death Eater that Hermione now knew to be Travers was walking toward them.

_"And what do you want?" Hermione snapped._

_"He's another Death Eater, 'Mione!" Harry frantically whispered from nowhere._

_"I merely sought to greet you but if my presence is not welcome ... " Travers said, affronted._

_"No, no , not at all, Travers. How are you?" Hermione worked to rectify her mistake._

_"Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix."_

_"Really? Why?" asked Hermione._

_"Well," Travers stopped to cough, "I heard that the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the ... ah ... escape." _

Hermione was forever proud of the cool lie that immediately left her lips.

_"The Dark Lord forgives those who have served him most faithfully in the past. Perhaps your credit is not as good with him as mine is, Travers." _

She smirked as Travers' expression grew less suspicious and he glanced around at the man that had tried to attack her just a minute before. The tips of Ron's fingers slid under the neck of her shirt and flitted across her collar bone. She inhaled and held her breath, biting her lip to try to stay concentrated on the memory at hand.

_"How did it offend you?" He asked._

_"It does not matter, it will not do so again."_

_"Some of these wandless can be troublesome. While they do nothing but beg I have no objection, but one of them actually asked me to plead her case at the Ministry last week. 'I'm a witch, sire, I'm a witch, let me prove it to you'" He stopped impersonating the witch's voice. "As if I was going to give her my wand - but whose wand are you using at the moment, Bellatrix? I heard that your own was -"_

_"I have my wand here. I don't know what rumors you have been listening to, Travers, but you seem sadly misinformed."_

Travers turned from her to Ron and inquired as to his identity. Hermione felt Ron's thumb brush a spot on her neck where she had a small circular scar. The scar had never bothered her much since her hair typically covered it. When she didn't have her hair down, it looked like a small mole. It was one of the many scars she couldn't trace to a source.

_"Who is your friend? I do not recognize him." _

_"This is Dragomir Despard. He speaks very little English, but he is in sympathy with the Dark Lord's aims. He has traveled here from Transylvania to see our new regime," Hermione-Bellatrix explained._

_"Indeed? How do you do, Dragomir?" Travers greeted him._

_"'Ow you?" Ron said with an afflicted accent. _

The Reviewers watched a painfully awkward hand shake between the two men.

_"So what brings you and your - ah - sympathetic friend to Diagon Alley this early?" asked Travers. _

_"I need to visit Gringotts," she said._

_"Alas, I also. Gold, filthy gold! We cannot live without it, yet I confess I deplore the necessity of consorting with our long fingered friends." _

Hermione listened to his insult and was glad that she was working with the Goblin Liaison office. It was like being called a Mudblood - the word instantly itched on her arm - like being told you were something less when you knew you weren't. She yanked at her sleeve.

_"Shall we?" Travers started forward. At the door of the bank, he spoke again, "Ah, Probity Probes: so crude - but effective." _

_"One moment, madam," said one guard to Hermione. _

_"But you've just done that!" She said loudly._

_"Yeah, you've just checked them, Marius." _

The Reviewers and the group in the Ministry walked into the vast marble hall of the bank. Hermione felt Ron's thumb brush the small round scar again and turned to look up at him. He was looking down at her with a worried, questioning look. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, asking what was wrong with her eyes. He pursed his lips a bit and shook his head. He left the scar alone for the rest of the memory and pulled his fingertips back off of her collarbone. The diminished contact left her down and she shifted her weight slightly.

_"Madam Lestrange! Dear me! How - how may I help you today?" the old goblin asked. _

_"I wish to enter my vault," Hermione-Bellatrix said._

_"You have ... identification?" the goblin asked in a small voice._

_"Identification? I - I have never been asked for identification before!" she nearly shrieked at him._

_"Your wand will do, madam," the goblin said. In a moment, the goblin spoke again. "Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!"_

_"What? No, no that's mine - " Hermione started._

_"A new wand?" Travers moved to approach Hermione and the counter. "But how could you have done, which wandmaker did you use?" A few moments later Travers began speaking again, "Oh yes, I see. Yes, very handsome. And is it working well? I always think wands require a little breaking in, don't you?"_

A confused look of panic darted across Bellatrix's face but Hermione had known enough to not say anything in the face of her sudden good luck.

_"I shall need the clankers," the old goblin said. _In a bit, the younger goblin had returned with a bag that jangled. _"Good, good! So, if you will follow me, Madam Lestrange..." the goblin hopped down off of his seat, "I shall take you to your vault." _

_"Wait - Bogrod!" _Another goblin ran toward them and spoke to Bogrod. _"We have instructions. Forgive me, Madam, but there have been special orders regarding the vault of Lestrange." _The other goblin whispered something into Bogrod's ear. Hermione made a quick mental note to look into the idea of Order of Merlin honors or other honors they can give to goblins. Not that Griphook deserved anything for his 'help' but because maybe some goblin somewhere did.

_"I am aware of the instructions. Madam Lestrange wishes to visit her vault ... Very old family ... old clients ... This way, please ..." Bogrod said, disjointedly. _

The Reviewers followed the memory through the stone passageway. Ron's hand adjusted a bit on her shoulder.

_"We're in trouble," Harry reappeared beside them, "they suspect." Harry looked around at Travers and Bogrod. "They're Imperiused. I don't think I did it strongly enough, I don't know..."_

Lenora gasped and Hermione watched her quill hesitate on the page. Surely they wouldn't bring any of this into any type of review. . .

_"What do we do? Shall we get out now, while we can?" Ron-Dragomir asked worriedly._

_"If we can," Hermione said._

_"We've got this far, I say we go on," Harry supplied._

_"Good! So, we need Bogrod to control the cart; I no longer have the authority. But there will not be room for the wizard." Griphook said._

Hermione's heart sank as Harry pointed his wand at Travers, _"Imperio!"_, Percy shifted and shook his head.

_"What are you making him do?" Ron asked._

_"Hide," Harry explained. _

Bogrod whistled and a car came zooming to them on the tracks. Shouting sounded from behind them and the Reviewers turned briefly to look back toward the main hall. The group in the memory scrambled into the cart, perceptibly rushed. Once the group was in the cramped cart, the Reviewers were pulled alongside the rushing cart. The cart clanged, smacked, rushed. Stone walls blurred by the Reviewers. Then the Reviewers turned the corner with the cart and Hermione saw the waterfall before the cart. The Reviewers passed through it, dry. The cart overturned and threw Harry, Griphook, Hermione, Ron, and Bogrod out of the cart onto the rocky floor. While the Reviewers fell as if riding a lift, watching the memory group get hurled through the air, Hermione heard herself shriek out, _"Spongify!" _

_"C-Cushioning Charm," Hermione stuttered, back in her own body. _

Hermione watched herself stand in the robes that were too big for her, sopping wet. Then Ron, no longer Dragomir stood. She remembered that feeling of panic.

_"The Thief's Downfall!" Griphook said sharply. "It washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment! They know there are impostors in Gringotts, they have set off defenses against us!" _

They saw Harry check for the Invisibility Cloak and Hermione check inside her bag. Bogrod became the focus of attention as he seemed to come out from under the Imperius Curse.

_"We need him. We cannot enter the vault without a Gringotts goblin. And we need the Clankers!" Griphook warned them._

_"Imperio!" _ Harry had used the Imperius Curse three times now, in the span of just a few minutes. Hermione didn't dare look at Lenora. She was afraid of what she'd see there. Surely they weren't going to prosecute Harry for this... No one would dare... Then a small voice in her head said, Parnell is here. He's a Senior Auror. Percy is here, he reports to the Minister. Lenora is here, she's a member of the Wizengamot. Her stomach churned with nerves.

_"Harry, I think I can hear people coming!" Hermione said quickly. "Protego!" she shrieked._

_"Good thinking. Lead the way, Griphook!" Harry said. _

_"How are we going to get out again?" Ron asked them._

_"Let's worry about that when we have to," Harry said, "Griphook, how much farther?"_

_"Not far, Harry Potter, not far..." _

The Reviewers walked and glided along behind the memory until they saw the dragon that Hermione knew they would free on their own escape.

_"It is partially blind," breathed Griphook, roughly, "but even more savage for that. However, we have the means to control it. It has learned what to expect when the Clankers come. Give them to me." When Ron had given the Clankers to Griphook who passed them out. "You know what to do. It will expect pain when it hears the noise: It will retreat, and Bogrod must place his palm upon the door of the vault." _

The Reviewers followed the group and the sound of the Clankers.

_"Make him press his hand to the poor!" Griphook urged Harry. _

The door melted away, revealing the Lestrange fortune. The group was still, stunned, for one short moment.

_"Search, fast!" Harry commanded._

Lenora's brows furrowed. Harry leaned to her and explained something, Hermione surmised. The door shut the Reviewers and the group in the dark vault.

_"No matter, Bogrod will be able to release us! Light your wands, can't you? And hurry, we have very little time!" Griphook said._

_"Lumos!" said Harry._

Hermione realized that the riches in the vault were so vast that the Reviewers were all standing in piles of gold or jewels or suits of priceless armor...

_"Harry, could this be - ? Aargh!" _

Hermione's stomach dropped when she heard herself scream, she couldn't completely explain why. The Reviewers jumped and saw Hermione holding her hands to her face as a goblet fell with identical copies around in every direction. Ron's fingers tightened painfully on her shoulder and she glanced up at him. His eyes were glued to her face in the memory.

_"It burned me!" Hermione cried, sucking her fingers to alleviate the pain._

_"They have added Gemino and Flagrante Curses!" said Griphook. "Everything you touch will burn and multiply, but the copies are worthless - and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be crushed to death by the weight of expanding gold!"_

_Harry looked desperate, "okay, don't touch anything!" _

Things were everywhere and it was impossible to not touch anything. Ron's foot touched one of the copied goblets as Harry had spoken.

_"Stand still, don't move!" Hermione said, grabbing Ron's robes in her hands to steady them both._

_"Just look around!" said Harry. "Remember, the cup's small and gold, it's got a badger engraved on it, two handles - otherwise see if you can spot Ravenclaw's symbol anywhere, the eagle - " _

The Reviewers watched the three searching for the Horcrux and bump into items, getting burned as worthless copies sprung about.

_"It's there, it's up there!" Harry exclaimed._

The Reviewers turned to look up at the cup on a high perch.

_"And how the hell are we going to get up there without touching anything?" asked Ron. _

_"Accio cup!" _

_"No use, no use!" growled Griphook._

_"Then what do we do? If you want the sword, Griphook, then you'll have to help use more than - wait! Can I touch stuff with the sword? Hermione, give it here!" _

_"If I can just poke the sword through a handle - but how am I going to get up there?"_

The Reviewers standing in the half lit piles of riches heard a clanking and the dragon roar from the other side of the door. Hermione's heart started panicking remembering the feeling of rising terror that she had felt at the time.

_"Hermione, I've got to get up there, we've got to get rid of it - "_

_"Levicorpus - " _

Harry flew through the air and replicating suits of armor and coins rained down on the screaming bodies of Ron, Hermione, and the two goblins. Harry had reached out in a few moments with the sword and was carefully threading the sword through the handle of the cup.

_"Impervius!" screamed Hermione._

A howl of pain sounded from behind them and they turned to see Griphook get yanked out of the burning metal by Harry.

_"Liberacorpus!" Harry yelled. _

New, worthless copies of items fell around and through the Reviewers. Harry's grip on the sword had loosened and the sword had flown a few feet away. The clanking outside was growing nearer and nearer, near deafening in the vault.

_"Get it! Where's the sword? It had the cup on it!" _

_"There!" Griphook shouted._

Griphook lunged for the sword that they had promised him and Hermione felt bad that she'd let Harry talk her into trying to play keep away from Griphook until later. She was almost glad that Griphook had gotten it back, though she guessed he woke one day mightily disappointed to find it missing after it had gone to Neville in the Sorting Hat.

Harry dove immediately after Griphook had slung the sword, tossing the cup off of it. He caught the burning cup and even as multiples of it burst out of his hand, Harry ran for the door. Ron, Hermione, the goblins and Harry had all ended up back in the outer chamber.

Hermione saw it happen because this time she'd been prepared for it. Griphook slinked away and joined the horde of goblins, flourishing the sword frantically. _"Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!" _The Reviewers watched Harry turn toward the group and shout, _"Stupefy!" _

_"Stupefy!"_ Ron and Hermione had joined Harry and started mowing down the group blocking their exit.

A group of wizards ran around the corner - the Reviewers saw over the heads of the goblins - only to turn and run away from the dragon as it released flames over the group. Harry had lifted his wand, _"Relashio! This way!" _

_"Harry - Harry - what are you doing?" cried Hermione. _

_"Get up, climb up, come on - " _ Harry got up onto the dragon's back and helped Hermione pull herself up. Ron climbed up behind them both and the dragon took off with a great push off of the floor. The Reviewers were dragged up and through the air on the platform of the memory as the dragon flew up and away.

_"We'll never get out, it's too big!" screamed Hermione. _

The dragon blasted apart its obstacles and Hermione watched herself start helping the dragon and then Harry and Ron joined. Standing still but flying beside yourself was surreal; it was like watching yourself on hidden camera at a store. Finally, they were beside the dragon in the blue sky over Gringotts and the memory dimmed and propelled them back out to their bright conference room around the silver table. Once they had all resumed their seats around the table and Parnell had guffawed at their successful escape of Gringotts by dragon, Lenora did the customary summary.

"I reckon we're getting close then," Ron said.

"Really?" Lenora asked, looking up in surprise.

"Well, yeah, I mean we landed with the dragon next to a lake and then immediately..." Ron paused obviously trying to avoid talking about Harry's mental connection with Voldemort. "...had a feeling that we should go to Hogwarts which we did that day." Ron looked at Lenora.

"That's just one more day..." Percy said, sounding almost disappointed.

"Well, maybe two," Harry deadpanned, "a lot happened in that one day."

"So we're possibly going to be done by the weekend?" Parnell asked.

"I guess so," she responded when neither Harry nor Ron made an immediate move to respond.

"Well it's been a rough couple of weeks so I can't say that I'm sorry about that fact one little bit. 'Course I'll see Harry every day, and Ron, so Hermione I'll need you to come around to Auror offices every once in a while and come see us, yeah?" Parnell moved to stand up and the rest of them followed his example.

"I will," she smiled.

Percy looked as if he might say something but thought better of it and closed his mouth as Lenora spoke again.

"Same time, here, tomorrow," she moved toward the door.

Hermione nodded and heard the rest of the Reviewers agree. They would finally, finally get to move beyond the last year. Hermione went to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures with a feeling of lightness and potential that made her feel like her chest might burst with happiness. She introduced Grayson before the department heads and Tarin LaFoe. Grayson presented the work of Odette and Hermione, thanking each of them publically, and gaining a nod of approval from LaFoe that Hermione thought was highly reassuring.

Once the clock hit five, Hermione went to the Auror floor to find that Harry had gone on a routine raid of a shop on Knockturn Alley. Ron had gone with Harding on a possible sighting of Drimet, so said Auror Silvestri, a fairly attractive female Auror. Silvestri handed Hermione a note from Ron that simply stated that they'd be home as soon as possible, not to wait on them for dinner. Hermione folded the note and slipped it in her pocket and walked out of the Ministry and Apparated to her home. Walking inside and reheating some of the roast from Monday, Hermione let herself imagine a life as just a normal Ministry employee - if there were such a thing as a normal Ministry employee.

As she washed her dishes Hermione glanced up just in time to see a man crossing the street walking away from their house. In the pinky light of dusk, Hermione could make out that the man had shoulder length brown hair. She dropped the plate into the water with a splash, blinking as a few drops of water slashed her shirt, and pulled her wand out of her pocket, walking to the foyer to get a better look at the strangely familiar figure. The man had turned around by the time she had reached the window. The man who'd followed her was staring directly at the space where their house was. His brown eyes were moving over the invisible structure. Hermione's breath hitched.

A pop of Apparation sounded from the back yard, Hermione's attention never wavered from the man. The man glanced around at the sound and then Disapparated, leaving Hermione staring at a vacant spot just a few meters away.

"'Mione?" Ron had come into the house.

"In here. That man was back," Hermione said, keeping her voice as even as possible as she stared at the spot he'd left.

Ron was beside her in an instant. "Where? Here?"

"Yes," she breathed, looking up at Ron, "across the street. Just left. It was like he could see the house - like the wards weren't even - "

Ron was looking her up and down, his eyes full of frenzied worry. "You're alright?"

"Yes," Harry put an arm around her shoulder from her other side as she said it, "I'm fine I just want that creep to leave off." The three of them watched out the windows for a few minutes before going about their evening with a buzzing, tense energy invading their space.

That night as she lay in Ron's long arms, Hermione jumped awake with the last image of her dream etched on her mind. The man standing across the street had smiled a crooked smile at her and transformed into Greyback before her eyes.


	24. Final Battle and Last Review

**AN: Ok, I went mostly off the book version of the final battle instead of the movie in order to stay as true to JK's work as possible. I loved the movie but I'm sticking with the print. Thanks again for sticking with the story! Once again: don't own, just playing. **

_. . . Chapter 24_

_. . . Final Battle and Last Review . . . _

* * *

Ron jumped violently awake from the familiar nightmare, acutely aware and grateful that he'd woken up as they had been put down into the dungeon by Greyback. Seeing Hermione being tortured up close like that had been a catalyst for new, more detailed nightmares: ones in which they did not reach her before Greyback. He heard a noise just outside the door and rolled over to see Hermione's clock. When he rolled more onto her side of the bed he was met with a spot in the sheets where a warm body had been only moments before. Hermione was already up and awake. It wasn't yet six o'clock. Bloody awful. He burrowed deeper into the warm spot Hermione had occupied, smirking when he realized how narrow and small the spot was. He willed himself back into a light sleep.

That day, as they walked into the ministry a feeling of déjà vu so familiar hit that Ron had to ask Hermione what day of the week it was.

She laughed at him. "It's Thursday, Ronald."

He shrugged at her and looked down at her to study her. She looked beautiful, her hair was pulled up and away from her neck and she had on tiny pearl earrings. Since when did she have pierced ears? How did he keep noticing new things about her when he'd known her for this long? The thin edge of her scar from Bellatrix's knife on her throat was visible. He swallowed and popped the knuckles on his left hand.

When they stood over the silver table and leaned in, they leaned into Harry's memory of the final battle. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had spoken about how much they wanted to reveal to the Reviewers and Harry had decided to leave out King's Cross with Dumbledore and the direct viewing of Snape's memories. Something about those particular experiences felt too personal. Ron and Hermione had agreed with him. Then Ron and Hermione had thought about the parts of the day they were separate from Harry and they'd all three agreed on showing the relevant bits of that as well. As they tumbled down into Harry's memory - Ron recognized it as the Hog's Head Inn - Ron couldn't help but have his nerves jangle at the knowledge of that they were about to witness: murder on all sides.

The Reviewers were standing behind the group of Aberforth, Harry, Hermione, and Ron and the portrait was being filled by Neville Longbottom.

_"I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry!"_

_"Neville - what the - how - ?" _ He looked dreadful, worse than Ron remembered.

_"I knew you'd come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!" Said Neville. _

_"Neville, what's happened to you?"_

_"What? This? This is nothing. Seamus is worse. You'll see. Shall we get going then? Oh, Ab, there might be a couple more people on the way." _Neville looked more like a punching bag than their friend since first year.

_"Couple more," Aberforth repeated, "What d'you mean, a couple more, Longbottom? There's a curfew and a Caterwauling Charm on the whole village!" _

Ron snuck a look at the Hermione in the memory, surreptitiously comparing her to the Hermione beside him. She'd been too thin last year, her face seemed more hollow then. Still gorgeous but too skinny. The Hermione beside him noticed his gaze and smiled up at him, raising her eyebrows. He stepped closer to her and felt a slender arm wrap around his hips at the top of his jeans. He raised his hand to the back of her neck - she seemed to like that, he thought - but this time he made sure to avoid directly touching the scar that he knew Scabior's wand had caused. He and Harry agreed to completely hide from Hermione that he and Harry had seen what they'd seen.

_"I know, that's why they'll be Apparating directly into the bar. Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot. _

They watched as Neville helped Hermione through the portrait hole and Ron and Harry quickly followed.

_"I don't know how to thank you. You've saved our lives twice." _Harry had turned around and was addressing Aberforth.

_"Look after 'em then. I might not be able to save 'em a third time," Aberforth said._

Ron let himself grin at that and felt Percy step a bit closer to him and Hermione. Ron was glad that Harry had allowed the memory to speed through the tunnel so that the time they spent in the memory was shorter. This was already bound to be an extended testimony day but he hoped they'd finally be able to finish these reviews. Soon they were turning the corner and Ron recognized that they were walking into the room of requirement.

_"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?"_

The room exploded with people shouting and greeting them. Percy shuffled his feet on the spot.

_"Okay, okay, calm down!" Neville yelled. _

_"Where are we?" asked Harry._

_"Room of Requirement, of course! Surpassed itself, hasn't it? The Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout: I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this when I arrived it was a load smaller, there was only one hammock and just Gryffindor hangings. But it's expanded as more and more of the DA have arrived."_

_"And the Carrows can't get in?" Harry asked._

_"No. It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can't get at us, the door won't open. It's all down to Neville. He really gets this room." _ Seamus looked horrific. He didn't even look like himself. Ron hoped that Lenora was getting some of this about the Carrows down. _"You've got to ask it for exactly what you need - like, 'I don't want any Carrow supporters to be able to get in' - and it'll do it for you! You've just got to make sure you close the loopholes! Neville's the man!"_

_"It's quite straightforward, really. I'd been in here about a day and a half, and getting really hungry ..."_

Ron realized Hermione was tugging on his arm. He turned down to look at her. Big brown eyes rimmed in long lashes looked up at him. They leaned in toward each other.

"Dancing," she whispered, her breath tickled his ear.

He looked at her with his face screwed up in question.

"Friday. Just decided that for sure, we're going dancing," she was grinning when she dropped back down off of her tip toes and turned her attention back to the scene at hand.

For a moment he thought she was being mental and then like someone had hit him on the head he realized: she was giving him something real to look forward to. She was probably trying to make sure he didn't get too upset today. He wondered if he'd have put that together before this last year...probably not. He imagined putting his hands on her in public, in a dress like she wore to the wedding last year. Hands got clammy and his heart sped up at just the thought of it. Applause in the memory burst the mental bubble he was in.

_"What were you after?" Seamus asked. _

Then the memory went dim and muted for a moment. The memory refocused and the Reviewers saw Ron supporting a sweating Harry.

_"Are you all right, Harry? Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't - ?"_

_"No...We need to get going," Harry said to Ron and Hermione._

_"What are we going to do, then, Harry? What's the plan?" Seamus asked._

_"Plan? Well, there's something we - Ron, Hermione, and I - need to do, and then we'll get out of here," explained Harry._

Ron was momentarily distracted from the memory in front of him because Hermione had adjusted her arm on him, pressing the side of her breast into his side. The softness of it was diverting. He let himself day dream a bit about her in that white undershirt again.

_"Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?" Neville asked._

_"Well, yeah - " Harry was struggling to explain it to the room full of their peers. _

Ron narrowed his eyes a bit at the scene. If they followed the rest of this memory like this it would take literally an entire day. He moved away from Hermione after a moment to ask Harry about it, whispering to keep from pissing off Lenora.

"I cut out all the memories of Snape's, King's Cross, the walk down to the forest - I thought that was private. Told you that. Sped through the walking when I thought I could. Made it as short as I could," Harry whispered back. He shrugged at Ron's sigh. Great, be here all bloody day. He squared his shoulders and paid more attention to the memory at hand.

_"You don't understand. We - we can't tell you. We've got to do it - alone," Harry tried to explain. _

_"Why?"_

_"Because ... Dumbledore left the three of us a job and we weren't supposed to tell - I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the three of us," Harry said._

_"We're his army. Dumbledore's Army. We were all in it together, we've been keeping it going while you three have been off on your own - "_

_"It hasn't exactly been a picnic, mate." _ Ron heard himself say. He agreed with himself and nodded. The implication that they'd been "off" having fun was like a slap in the face. Bleeding almost a year in a smelly canvas tent without food more often than not.

_" I never said it had, but I don't see why you can't trust us. Everyone in this room's been fighting and they've been driven in here because the Carrows were hunting them down. Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Dumbledore - loyal to you." _

The Reviewers stood and watched the memory as the three of them talked it over with the rest of the people in the Room of Requirement. Ginny appeared and Ron noticed how Harry's face lit up in the memory at the sight of her. He leaned against Hermione a bit at that - any older brotherly protectiveness would need to be reevaluated, he thought. Anyone who would look at Ginny like that, especially his best mate, would treat her well. He started to get agitated and a bit nauseous when he saw Fred and George climb through the hole. Ron concentrated on the feel of Hermione pressing into his side. He looked down at the top of her head where light brown mingled with streaks of honeyed blond. She must've been out in the sun a bit over the last couple days. Her hair always got lighter over the summers. It was more coffee colored in the winter, honey brown in the summers. Hermione shook with a bit of laughter when Ginny wouldn't let Cho escort Harry to Ravenclaw tower, telling Luna to go instead. The memory followed Harry and Luna under the Invisibility Cloak up the tower. Finally they stood in the empty Ravenclaw common room. Ron looked around and felt Hermione do the same. He had a moment of realization that the only common room he hadn't seen now was the Hufflepuff common room.

Harry moved in the memory to the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw as Alecto Carrow burst from the shadows and pressed her Dark Mark.

_"I've never Stunned anyone expect in our DA lessons. That was noisier than I thought it would be," _Luna observed, still invisible, as if she were detached from the scene. He smiled at her general location. Her strangeness was always good for a laugh, sweet Luna. The formerly sleeping Ravenclaws filed into the room.

_"Luna, where are you? I need to get under the Cloak!" Harry disappeared under the Cloak with Luna._

One young Ravenclaw moved forward and touched Alecto with his foot.

_"I think she might be dead!" _

_"Oh look. They're pleased," came Luna's whisper._

_"Yeah...great..." whispered Harry. _

A knock sounded from the direction of the entrance of the common room. _"Where do Vanished objects go?" _

_"I dunno, do I? Shut it! Alecto? Alecto? Are you there? Have you got him? Open the door!" _A man's voice was shouting through the door. The Ravenclaws pressed back and together in fear. Everyone at Hogwarts had seen war, Ron thought, even those that didn't stay for the battle. That entire year had been war in and out of Hogwarts.

_"ALECTO! If he comes, and we haven't got Potter - d'you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? ANSWER ME!"_

_"May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?" _Professor McGonagall's voice came, muffled through the door.

Hermione shifted against him and he absently brushed his hand down from her neck to her shoulder, gripping it under his large hand.

_"Trying - to get - though this damned - door! Go and get Flitwick! Get him to open it, now!" _

_"But isn't your sister in there? Didn't Professor Flitwick let her in earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps she could open the door for you? Then you needn't wake up half the castle." McGonagall's voice said flatly._

_"She ain't answering, you old besom! You open it! Garn! Do it, now!" _

_"Certainly, if you wish it."_

_"Where do Vanished objects go?"_

_"Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything," McGonagall said. _

Ron was still clumsily turning over what McGonagall had said in his mind as the door opened, admitting Amycus and McGonagall. Amycus let out a yell when he saw his sister.

_"What've they done, the little whelps? I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em till they tell me who did it - and what's the Dark Lord going to say? We haven't got him, and they've gorn and killed her!"_

Hermione flexed and tightened her fingers against his side.

_"She's only Stunned. She'll be perfectly all right."_

_"No she bludgering well won't! Not after the Dark Lord gets hold of her! She's gorn and sent for him, I felt me Mark burn, and he thinks we've got Potter!"_

A dark look crossed McGonagall's face. _"'Got Potter? What do you mean, 'got Potter'?"_

_"He told us Potter might try and get inside Ravenclaw Tower, and to send for him if we caught him!" _

_"Why would Harry Potter try and get inside Ravenclaw Tower? Potter belongs in my House!" McGonagall shrieked. _

_"We was told he might come in here! I dunno why, do I?" _

_"We can push it off on the kids" Amycus said, plotting, "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there...and we'll say they forced her to press her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm ... He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"_

_"Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice, a difference, in short, which you and your sister seem unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Hogwarts. I shall not permit it." _Ron felt a swell of pride for McGonagall and for being in her house. She was deathly pale but she'd stood up to a Death Eater without hesitating. Just like Hermione writhing in pain but successfully passing off the sword as a copy . . .

_"Excuse me?" Amycus walked toward her. "It's not a case of what you'll permit, Minerva McGonagall.  
Your time's over. It's us what's in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price." _

Amycus spit in her face and Ron opened his mouth about to shout to the man he knew wouldn't hear him when Harry threw off the Cloak.

_"You shouldn't have done that," Harry said, darkly and as Amycus turned Harry shouted: "Crucio!" _

Hermione's fingers dug into his side painfully but when Ron turned to look at her, her eyes were glued to the memory in front of them.

_"I see what Bellatrix meant, you need to really mean it," Harry said._

Ron heard Hermione gasp next to him and he turned to look at the older Harry to his left who was looking down at the navy blue carpet with furious splotches of red on both cheeks. Right that he should be ashamed, no one should ever be callous about casting the unforgivable or comparing yourself to that bitch. Especially when Bellatrix had so recently 'meant it' while she cursed Hermione.

_"Potter! Potter - you're here! What - ? How - ? Potter, that was foolish!" _

_"He spat at you," said Harry. _

_"Potter, I - that was very - very gallant of you - but don't you realize - ?" _

_"Yeah, I do. Professor McGonagall, Voldemort's on the way," Harry explained. _

_"Oh, are we allowed to say the name now?" asked Luna._

_"I don't think it makes any difference what we call him," Harry said. "He already knows where I am." _

_"You must flee. Now, Potter, as quickly as you can!" McGonagall whispered._

_"I can't. There's something I need to do. Professor, do you know where the diadem of Ravenclaw is?"_

_"The d-diadem of Ravenclaw? Of course not - hasn't it been lost for centuries? Potter, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle - " _

_"I had to. Professor, there's something hidden here that I'm supposed to find, and it could be the diadem - if I could just speak to Professor Flitwick - "_

When Amycus started to rise, Professor McGonagall had risen and Imperioed him. She made him disarm his sister and then lay down beside her so that McGonagall could bind them together.

_"Potter, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named does indeed know that you are here - "_

The memory got hazy. Voldemort again, Ron wagered.

_"Potter, are you all right?"_

_"Time's running out, Voldemort's getting nearer. Professor, I'm acting on Dumbledore's orders, I must find what he wanted me to find! But we've got to get the students out while I'm searching the castle - it's me Voldemort wants, but he won't care about killing a few more or less, not now - " _

Ron glanced over at his friend and wondered at the amount of willing sacrifice that Harry had always seemed to have. In that horrible house with those ridiculous muggles on Privet Drive, how did Harry ever turn out to be the person he had become?

_"You're acting on Dumbledore's orders?" _ _McGonagall looked shocked._ _"We shall secure the school against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named while you search for this - this object." _

_"Is that possible?" Harry asked._

_"I think so. We teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold him off for a while if we put our best efforts into it. Of course, something will have to be done about Professor Snape - "_

_"Let me - " Harry interrupted._

_" - and if Hogwarts is about to enter a state of siege, with the Dark Lord at the gates, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo Network under observation, and Apparation impossible within the grounds - " _

Harry explained the Hog's Head entry process to McGonagall and then the Reviewers were following the memory back out of Ravenclaw Tower. On their quick step walking, they ran into Professor Snape. Ron had heard the steps coming from behind them and bowed up only to feel his shoulders soften when he recognized who they belonged to. McGonagall and Snape exchanged quick blows and hexes. Flitwick interrupted the brawl. Ron watched Snape get chased away with a heavy heart. He wondered what the last words he exchanged with his fellow teachers was. Was this them, then? McGonagall told them about Snape leaving and the Reviewers observed the teachers planning to fend off the attack for as long as it took and then make plans to meet in the Great Hall. Ron's hand on Hermione's shoulder started to get clammy and he moved it off of her shoulder to a spot at her waist. He didn't want to be too far from her with everything they were about to see. . .

Soon Harry was running again, dragging the memory with him on the way back to the Room of Requirement. Back inside the room the Reviewers saw the huge crowd. Lenora was attempting to write all names of the people down, Ron heard Percy whispering additional names quickly in her ear.

_"Harry, what's happening?" said Lupin._ Ron clamped his jaws together tightly.

_"Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading the school - Snape's run for it - what are you doing here? How did you know?" Harry asked, breathless._

_"We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army," Fred said. "You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry, and the DA let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed." _

Ron burrowed his fingers into Hermione's side. He pressed them so hard he felt her softness give a bit and felt her ribs expand and contract under his hand.

_"What first, Harry? What's going on?" George piped up._

_"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized. We're fighting," explained Harry. _

The people trickled out of the room leaving the Weasleys, Lupin, and Harry. The Weasley family had a brief argument about Ginny's safety and all Ron wanted to do was shout at them that Ginny would be fine, Fred needed to leave. A clamoring came from the direction of the tunnel.

_"Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I - I - " Percy was sputtering._

The Percy behind Ron coughed uncomfortably. The awkward small talk about Teddy was painful and then so was Percy's declaration: _"I was a fool! I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a - a - "_

_"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," said Fred. _Jokes, true jokes.

_"Yes, I was!" Percy agreed._

_"Well, you can't say fairer than that," Fred said, grinning._ Ron tried to memorize his face like that: eyes lit up, toothy smile, a mischievous and teasing look. Ron watched Fred move about the room, ignoring Percy's greetings and his parents as they discussed Ginny staying put. He didn't pay attention to what was being said until he heard his name.

_" - Ron? Where's Hermione?" Harry asked._

_"They must have gone up to the Great Hall already," called ._

_"I didn't see them pass me."_

_"They said something about a bathroom not long after you left," Ginny supplied. _

_"A bathroom?" Harry went to check the bath in the Room of Requirement, " You're sure they said bath - ?"_

The memory around them dimmed again. Harry was blocking this part of the memory from them all. In the darkness Hermione moved a bit and Ron realized he was still squeezing her too tight under his fingers. He loosened his grip around her ribs in an instant. Soon the memory had resumed and Harry had gone to the Great Hall where McGonagall was speaking. Ron glanced down at Hermione beside him to see if he'd hurt her. She looked back up to him and gave him a small nod, setting her mouth in a line. Ernie Macmillian shouted, _"And what if we want to stay and fight?"_

Ron wondered suddenly what exactly had happened to Ernie, whether or not he'd made it out of the battle ok. McGonagall agreed that those of age could stay and Ron heard a silly, stupid girl ask about her possessions. Stupid, selfish moron. Harry was moving again and the Reviewers were dragged along behind as he looked up and down the tables for something or someone. The whole thing felt rushed, too fast, horrible. Then Voldemort's voice came through the memory and Ron saw Harry take a deep breath and sigh out of the corner of his eye.

_"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood...Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded...You have until midnight." _

Ron watched, disgusted as every head in the room turned to stare at Harry and Pansy yelled for someone to grab him. Then the crowd of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs stood defensively between Harry and the Slytherins.

_"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," McGonagall said. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow." _In a moment she had dismissed Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors that would want to leave. He smirked at the memory as he watched McGonagall go up and down the Gryffindor table, weeding out underage students.

_"Where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked. _

_"Haven't you found - ? asked, looking around worried._

_Kingsley stood onto the platform, "We've only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers - Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor- where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus, Arthur, and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organize defense of the entrances of the passageways into the school - "_

_"Sounds like a job for us," said Fred. _Ron's stomach dropped out from under him. This time he didn't have to tighten his fingers around Hermione for her to press tighter against his side.

_"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!" _

_"Potter! Aren't you supposed to be looking for something?"_

_"What? Oh. Oh yeah!" _ Ron almost smiled at Harry forgetting about the Horcrux.

_"Then go, Potter, go!" _

_"Right - yeah - " _

As Harry ran, the time in the memory seemed to speed up and soon Harry was skittering to a stop in front of Nearly Headless Nick and asking for help with the Gray Lady. Parnell crossed between them as Harry quickly made his way over to the Gray Lady and Ron shook his head to clear it and pay more attention.

_"You're the Gray Lady?" Harry asked and she nodded._

_"The ghost of Ravenclaw Tower?"_

_"That is correct," she replied. _

_"Please: I need some help. I need to know anything you can tell me about the lost diadem." _

_"I am afraid that I cannot help you." _Harry had told them about meeting her but hadn't told them what a bitch she'd been.

_"WAIT! This is urgent! If that diadem's at Hogwarts, I've got to find it, fast."_

_"You are hardly the first student to covet the diadem. Generations of students have badgered me - "_

_"This isn't about trying to get better marks! It's about Voldemort - defeating Voldemort - or aren't you interested in that?"_

_"Of course I - how dare you suggest - ?"_

_"Well, help me then!"_

_"It - it is not a question of - My mother's diadem - "_

_"Your mother's?"_

_"When I lived, I was Helena Ravenclaw."_

_"You're her daughter? But then you must know what happened to it!" _

_"While the diadem bestows wisdom I doubt that it would greatly increase your chances of defeating the wizard who calls himself Lord - "_

_"Haven't I just told you," _Harry was shouting and Ron didn't blame him_, "I'm not interested in wearing it! There's no time to explain - but if you care about Hogwarts, if you want to see Voldemort finished, you've got to tell me anything you know about the diadem!" _

Helena waited a long time before responding. Ron was getting fed up with her. Hermione untangled her arm from around Ron and Ron felt cold air hit the spot a warm hand had just been. She stepped just a bit away and pulled her shirt inches away from her chest a few times in an effort to cool off. Her cheeks and collar were flushed - she was getting anxious.

_"I stole the diadem from my mother."_

_"You - you did what?"_

_"I stole the diadem. I sought to make myself cleverer, more important than my mother, I ran away with it...My mother, they say, never admitted that the diadem was gone, but pretended that she had it still. She concealed her loss, my dreadful betrayal, even from the other founders of Hogwarts. Then my mother feel ill - fatally ill. In spite of my perfidy, she was desperate to see me one more time. She sent a man who had long loved me, though I spurned his advances, to find me. She knew that he would not rest until he had done so. He tracked me to the forest where I was hiding. When I refused to return with him, he became violent. The Baron was always a hot-tempered man. Furious at my refusal, jealous of my freedom, he stabbed me." _

_"The Baron? You mean -" _

_"The Bloody Baron, yes. When he saw what he had done, he was overcome with remorse. He took the weapon that had claimed my life and used it to kill himself. All these centuries later, he wears his chains as an act of penitence...as he should." _

_"And...and the diadem?" _

_"It remained where I had hidden it when I heard the Baron blundering through the forest toward me. Concealed inside a hollow tree."_

_"A hollow tree? What tree? Where was this?"_

_"A forest in Albania. A lonely place I thought was far beyond my mother's reach." _

_"Albania...You've already told someone this story, haven't you? Another student?"_

Ron watched her nod. Hermione had moved about a foot away from him. At first he was a bit miffed but then she looked up at him and smiled a closed lip smile, raising her eyebrows at him. He reached out and took her small hand.

_"I had ... no idea... He was ... flattering. He seemed to...to understand...to sympathize..."_

_"Well, you weren't the first person Riddle wormed things out of. He could be charming when he wanted..." _Harry appeared to be lost in thought for an extended period of time until he finished loudly, _" - the night he asked for a job!"_

_"I beg your pardon?" the ghost asked._

_"He hid the diadem in the castle, the night he asked Dumbledore to let him teach! He must've hidden the diadem on his way up to, or down from, Dumbledore's office! But it was still worth trying to get the job - then he might've got the chance to nick Gryffindor's sword as well - thank you, thanks!"_

Harry ran and time sped forward, they saw Hagrid and Fang speed by and speak quickly to Harry then they were running at a speed like flying on Harry's Firebolt. Harry slid around a corner and time slowed back to normal.

_"Where the hell have you been?" Harry shouted at Ron and Hermione. _

_"Chamber of Secrets."_

_"Chamber - what?" _

_"It was Ron, all Ron's idea! Wasn't it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn't got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk!" Hermione huffed out breathlessly._

_"What the - ?" Harry started._

_"Something to get rid of Horcruxes." _Ron heard himself say. It was one of his most brilliant ideas, if he did say so himself.

_"But how did you get in there? You need to speak Parseltongue!" _

_"He did! Show him, Ron!" Hermione whispered excitedly. Ron hissed and sputtered._

_"It's what you did to open the locked. I had to have a few goes to get it right, but we got there in the end." _

_"We was amazing! Amazing!" Hermione beamed. _The Hermione beside him squeezed his hand.

_"So... So..." Harry started._

_"So we're another Horcrux down. Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn't had the pleasure yet." _

_"Genius!" yelled Harry. _

_"It was nothing. So what's new with you?" _

An bang sounded from above them and a high pitched scream echoed from somewhere far away.

_"I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is. He hid it exactly where I hid my old Potions book, where everyone's been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it. Come on." _

The Reviewers followed the three of them back to the Room of Requirement where Harry quickly ushered out Neville's grandmother, Tonks, and Ginny. Harry shouted after Ginny to come back in but Ron saw her apply a tried and true Weasley technique - pretend not to hear a command you don't want to follow. It had worked for the Weasley brood against their mother for ages. Ron heard himself speak again.

_"Hang on a moment! We've forgotten someone!"_

_"Who?" asked Hermione._

_"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"_

_"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" Harry asked._

_"No. I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dobbies, do we? We can't order them to die for us - " _

Because he was expecting it he was already watching Hermione when her face registered shock and when she dropped the basilisk fangs and flung herself at him, claiming his lips with hers for only the second time. The Hermione beside him dropped his hand as if she'd been scalded. Ron hadn't realized how long and how enthusiastic that kiss was because of all of the trauma of the day. . . Parnell and Percy had both turned toward Ron and Hermione who were standing side by side. Ron itched to jump away from Hermione but denied the urge. Parnell had on a big broad smile and Percy a smirk as Harry spoke.

_"Is this the moment?" _Ron's ears went bright red when he and Hermione didn't stop in the memory. Bloody hell if Parnell didn't stop staring at them . . .He couldn't even chance a look down at Hermione or over at Harry. _"Oi! There's a war going on here!" _

Christ, they had finally quit. Ron let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding.

_"I know, mate so it's now or never, isn't it?" Ron asked. _ Parnell quit smiling and let out a barking laugh.

_"Never mind that, what about the Horcrux? D'you think you could just - just hold it in until we've got the diadem?" Harry said. _ Lenora chuckled from his right somewhere. Hermione's shoulders started shaking and he finally looked down at her, she was laughing silently beside him. She grinned at him when he made eye contact with her. He grinned sheepishly back.

_"Yeah - right - sorry," Ron said._

Back out in the hallway, ears still burning red, the castle was shaking and knocking ominously and Grawp was stomping his way through.

_"Let's hope he steps on some of them!" said Ron. _

_"As long as it's not any of our lot!" Ginny said from behind them. Ginny aimed at and hit a fighter below. _

_"Good girl," roared Aberforth. "They look like they might be breaching the north battlements, they've brought giants of their own!"_

_"Have you seen Remus?" Tonks called after him._

_"He was dueling Dolohov. Haven't seen him since!" Aberforth shouted back. _

_"Tonks - Tonks, I'm sure he's okay - " Ginny said but Tonks ran off anyway. _Ron wanted to yell after her to stop. Watching this and knowing what happens to everyone. . .Brutal.

_"They'll be alright. Ginny, we'll be back in a moment, just keep out of the way, keep safe - come on!" Harry said. _

A few moments later they were in the overly crowded Room of Requirement which was eerily silent after the bedlam of the castle.

_"And he never realized anyone could get in?" Ron said. _

_"He thought he was the only one. Too bad for him I've had to hide stuff in my time...this way. I think it's down here..." Harry said. _

_"Accio Diadem!" Hermione cried. _

_"Let's split up. Look for the stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara! It's standing on a cupboard and it's definitely somewhere near here ... " Harry commanded. _The three split up and the Reviewers trailed behind Harry as he muttered, _"somewhere near here...somewhere...somewhere..." _They followed him while they searched until a voice rang out.

_"Hold it, Potter." _

The Reviewers turned to find Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy standing in a clump.

_"That's my wand you're holding, Potter," Malfoy said._

_"Not anymore. Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who's lent you theirs?"Harry asked, stalling._

_"My mother," said Draco. _

_"So how come you three aren't with Voldemort?" asked Harry. _

_"We're gonna be rewarded. We 'ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'im," Crabbe said. _

_"Good plan," Harry said sarcastically. _

_"So how did you get in here?" Harry asked._

_"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year," Malfoy said, " I know how to get in." _

_"We was hiding in the corridor outside. We can do Disslusion Charms now! And then, you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?" Goyle asked. _

_"Harry? Are you talking to someone?" Ron yelled._

_"Descendo!" Crabbe hexed a wall of miscellaneous items. _

_"Ron!" Harry bellowed. _Ron heard Hermione's too familiar scream from far away and moved his arm out to grip Hermione's arm beside him. _"Finite!" yelled Harry. _

_"No! If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing!" Malfoy said. _

_"What's that matter?" Crabbe spoke. "It's Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?" _

_"Potter came in here to get it so that must mean - "_

_"'Must mean'? Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, Draco. You an' your dad are finished," Crabbe said cruelly. _

_"Harry?" shouted Ron. "What's going on?"_

_"Harry? What's going - no, Potter! Crucio!" Harry lunged for the diadem when Crabbe hexed him._

Hermione jumped beside him as the stone bust flew up beside them.

_"STOP!" Malfoy screamed. " The Dark Lord wants him alive - "_

_"So? I'm not killing him, am I? But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff - ?" Crabbe went on. _

Ron saw the memory-Hermione run around the corner and aim a perfect stunning spell at Crabbe who was pulled out of the way by Malfoy.

_"It's that Mudblood! Avada Kedavra!" _

Ron reflexively crushed Hermione's hand in his as Lenora gasped behind them. That anyone would aim to hurt her was bad enough. That Crabbe had tried to kill her - Ron saw blood as Hermione dove out of the way of green light. Ron was suddenly extremely glad that that bastard had died and did not feel guilty at all at the realization.

_"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" Malfoy yelled. _

_"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, disarming Goyle. _For a few moments the group dueled frantically.

_"Avada Kedavra!" Crabbe misaimed this time at Ron._

_"It's somewhere here! Look for it while I go help R -"_

_"HARRY!" Hermione screamed. _

_"Like it hot, scum?" Crabbe snarled at Ron. _

The Fiendfyre charged up behind Ron and Crabbe.

_"Aguamenti!" Harry shouted in vain._

_"RUN!" _All of them ran as fast as they could away from the flames. Ron watched the three of them get trapped by the circling flames.

_"What can we do? What can we do?" Hermione screamed._

_"Here!" Harry handed a broomstick to Ron and the three of them took off over the flames._

_"Harry, let's get out, let's get out!"_

Though they were up above the flames the Reviewers heard a horrible scream from below them.

_"It's - too - dangerous!" Ron yelled but Harry swooped down and unsuccessfully tried to haul Malfoy and Goyle up._

_"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!" Ron yelled as they pulled up Goyle and Harry saved Malfoy._

_"The door, get to the door, the door!" Malfoy screamed._

_Harry dove down and Malfoy yelled, "What are you doing, what are you doing, the door's that way!" _

In a few moments the Reviewers were out in the hallway with the heaving forms of Harry, Hermione, Ron, Malfoy, and Goyle.

_"C-Crabbe...C-Crabbe..." _

_"He's dead," Ron said hatefully._ He did not regret his tone a bit after that asshole had tried to kill Hermione. He realized he was still clutching her hand desperately and loosened his fingers. In about a minute they'd realized that the diadem had been destroyed by the Fiendfyre and then Hermione said the phrase that had given him chills just a few short weeks ago.

_"But don't you realize? This means, if we can just get the snake - " _

They all turned to follow the sound of dueling and saw Percy and Fred come into view battling a couple Death Eaters. Harry moved over to where he and Hermione where standing. He felt Percy inch closer as well. Right. Ron looked down at the crisscrossing laces on his trainers. A rushing sound that had picked up while they were in the Room of Requirement seemed to grow louder in his ears. He barely heard Percy's joke, Fred's retort. His trainers' laces crossed over each other four times before the top knot. The explosion happened around him and he concentrated then on Hermione's shoes - flats, silver with small tassels on each. A cry like a wounded animal rang out and Ron knew it was his own. Hermione's hand came up and brushed an as yet unnoticed tear off of his face. He looked down at her, her face shone with tears as well. He would not and did not look in the direction he knew Fred lay still.

In a moment, curses flew at the group from all directions and Ron saw himself and Harry grab Hermione and knock her to the floor. They were both partially over her, shielding her from harm. He tried to block out the sounds of Percy's anguish and brought his hand up to the Percy beside him, clasping his upper arm in reassurance. They all - the three of them - seemed more grounded at each other's touch since the events of last year.

Hermione's scream jerked him back into the landscape of the memory. Ron thought it was a sign of strength transferred from some higher power for sure that he didn't step away from the Acromantula but had hexed it with Harry. They worked to stun the remaining Acromantulas.

_"Let's move, NOW!" shouted Harry, pushing Hermione forward. _Harry and Percy moved Fred into a niche in the wall. Ron let go of Hermione's hand and roughly wiped his face off. They all took off running in the memory and the Reviewers stood still, pulled along behind.

_"Harry, in here!" Hermione screamed from behind a tapestry. _Ron saw her wrestling him and trying to get him to calm down. He narrowed his eyes, he didn't remember this at all...

_"Listen to me - LISTEN RON!" she yelled._

_"I wanna help - I wanna kill Death Eaters - " _Oh, he remembered now.

_"Ron, we're the only ones who can end it! Please - Ron - we need the snake, we've got to kill the snake!" _She was struggling with him, all hundred or so pounds of her worked to try to keep Ron from running after Percy. _"We will fight! We'll have to, to reach the snake! But let's not lose sight now of what we're supposed to be d-doing! We're the only ones who can end it!" _She was crying but she'd managed to get him to keep struggling he noticed. He wiped at his face again. Thank Merlin that these memories were going to be over soon. _"You need to find out where Voldemort is, because he'll have the snake with him, won't he? Do it, Harry - look inside him!" Hermione commanded. _

The memory went hazy although the other Reviewers were bound to realize now that this is what had been happening. Wait a second - if Harry could select memories with this much success and speed through time this easy. . .what if Voldemort was the reason that Harry had trouble with Occlumency. . .what if having the duel minds or whatever you call it was the reason for that? Surely Harry had some control over his mind if they were selectively picking over his memories with this much control . . . He made a mental note to ask Harry about it.

_"He's in the Shrieking Shack. The snake's with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape." _

_"Voldemort's sitting in the Shrieking Shack? He's not - he's not even fighting?" Hermione asked._

_"He doesn't think he needs to fight. He thinks I'm going to go to him." Harry explained. _

_"But why?" _

_"He knows I'm after Horcruxes - he's keeping Nagini close beside him - obviously I'm going to have to go to him to get near the thing."_

_"Right," Ron said, "So you can't go, that's what he wants, what he's expecting. You stay here and look after Hermione, and I'll go and get it - " _

_"You two stay here, I'll go under the Cloak and I'll be back as soon as I -" Harry cut across Ron but was interrupted by Hermione._

_"No," she said, " it makes much more sense if I take the Cloak and -" _

_"Don't even think about it," Ron snarled at her. _He still got a nauseous feeling imaging Hermione walking to her certain death. A flash of one of the images from his nightmares clouded his vision. Brown eyes staring up blankly from her pale face.

_"Ron, I'm just as capable - " she was cut off by two Death Eaters coming through a nearby tapestry._

_"POTTER!" _

_"Glisseo!" Hermione shouted and the three of them slid away from the Death Eaters on the stairs turned slide. _The Reviewers followed them down the chute_. "Duro!" cried Hermione. _Two sickening crunches sounded from the other side of the tapestry Hermione had just hardened. Brilliant but scary still applied to her, obviously.

_"Get back!" shouted Ron. _McGonagall herded a group of desks by the group of Reviewers.

_"Harry, you get the Cloak on," Hermione said, "Never mind us - " _

Ron watched Harry throw the Cloak over the three of them and the Reviewers followed the six visible feet through the corridors and their close run in with some hideous plant. Harry stunned a Death Eater as they passed Malfoy.

_"And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bastard!" Ron yelled at Malfoy. _

They ran around the corner and Ron watched Hermione blast Greyback off of Lavender. He felt sick and switched his weight from one foot to the other. Then Trelawney dropped a crystal ball on Greyback, knocking him out. Ron clenched a fist. They'd all assumed he was dead or that someone else would take care of him, he supposed. Instead, that bastard was still out murdering and raping as he pleased. Hagrid's movement into the swarm of spiders followed and then Grawp was before them.

_"RUN!" Harry roared, grabbing Hermione's hand and dragging her with him. _

Dementors suddenly surrounded the group. The edges of the memory started to fade a bit.

_"Come on, Harry! Patronuses, Harry, come on!" Hermione's voice was muffled. "HARRY, COME ON!"_

Ron watched himself struggle for his Patronus to appear. Luna, Ernie, and Seamus all appeared from nowhere with their Patronuses. Hermione always had trouble with it and she'd never explained why but Ron thought maybe she was always so focused on the logical side of things which was so often the negative side. . .what would she feel now after the last year's events. . . .

_"That's right. That's right, Harry," came Luna's gentle voice, "come on, think of something happy..."_

_"Something happy?" Harry's voice was weak._

_"We're all still here. We're still fighting. Come on, now..."_

Harry's stag burst forth and chased the Dementors out of sight.

_"Can't thank you enough. You just saved -" Ron started._

_"RUN!" Harry said as another giant walked through. _

_"Let's get out of range!" Ron yelled as the giant swung its club._

_"The Whomping Willow. Go!"_

The Reviewers were pulled along behind the sprinting Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They heard Ron wish for Crookshanks - probably the first and last time he'd ever wished to be in Crookshanks company. Hermione's sharp retort about his being a wizard or not brought a laugh from Parnell.

_"Wait," Harry said, hesitating._

_"Harry, we're coming, just get in there!" Ron said, pushing Harry into the passage. _

The Reviewers were dragged through rock and tunnel quickly and found themselves slowing as Hermione spoke.

_"The Cloak! Put the Cloak on!" _

In the half light they watched Harry disappear and continue up the rest of the passageway. Once in the shack behind Harry, the Reviewers heard the silky voice of Severus Snape. The memory was trapped in a room outside the room. They were peering at it as if through a crack.

_"...my Lord, their resistance is crumbling - "_

_"- and it is doing so without your help," Voldemort hissed back. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there . . . almost." _

_"Let me find the boy," Snape said. "Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please." _

_"I have a problem, Severus." _

_"My Lord?" _

_"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"_

_"My - my Lord? I do not understand. You - you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand," Snape said._

_"No. I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary..." _What a bloody pompous git. Ron smirked darkly at his own mental insult of the darkest wizard of all time - 'git'. _"But this wand...no. It has not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago. . . No difference. . . .I have thought long and hard, Severus. . . Do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"_

_"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Potter." _

_"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me." _ Ron glanced over at Harry who cut his eyes back at him. Harry had indeed gone to him. He watched Harry clench his jaw, twitching the muscles of his face almost imperceptibly. _"I know his weakness, you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching the other struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come." _

Hermione shuffled over a bit closer to Harry who resolutely ignored Hermione and kept his eyes firmly on the memory.

_"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself - " _He was grasping at straws obviously, trying to make sure he could give Harry those memories.

_"My instructions to my Death Eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends - the more, the better - but do not kill him." _Harry sighed deeply. Hermione wrapped an arm around one of Harry's. Harry still didn't turn to look at her.

_"But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable." _

_"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But - let me go and find the boy, my Lord. Let me bring him to you. I know I can - "_

_"I have told you, no!" Voldemort hissed impatiently. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!" _

_"My Lord, there can be no question, surely - ?"_

Ron tuned out the rest of Snape's futile attempts to reason a way back to the battle. He moved over to Harry and Hermione and stood slightly behind them, looking over them at the sliver of memory they could see. He hated that Harry hadn't known about Snape's true allegiance before and wondered at why Dumbledore allowed Snape to keep it all a secret. Although now it did make a lot more sense why Snape was always so hateful to Harry. . . A male scream cut off Ron's mental ramblings.

_"I regret it," Voldemort lied through his crooked teeth._

A few moments later they were in the room with Snape who was covered in blood and choking. Harry was out from under the invisibility cloak and being pulled by his shirt down to Snape's dying form.

_"Take . . . it. . .Take . . . it . . . " Snape gurgled._

In the memory, Hermione supplied Harry with a flask and Harry captured the memories within it.

_"Look . . .at . . . me . . ." Snape breathed out._

Ron clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder and saw Hermione clutch his arm tighter against her. Harry hadn't spoken too much about the final battle or any of this with anyone. . . Neither had he, he supposed or even Hermione. It probably was not healthy in the slightest for any of them. Moments later Voldemort spoke to the grounds of Hogwarts.

_"You have fought, valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. . . Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured. . . I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."_

The memory sped up and they were quickly out of the tunnel, zooming by patches of blood where bodies had recently been, the Great Hall and the bodies spread across tables was a blur - thank Merlin for small mercies. Ron couldn't make out which bodies were friends. Then the memory was blank for a long stretch. . . long enough that Lenora shifted and coughed. So, right, Snape's memories and then Harry didn't want to show the walk down either, did he? . . . No, so then they'd pick up. . . when? The silent blackness stretched on awkwardly. Hermione and Harry were still standing in front of him, judging from Harry's shoulder still under his palm. He reached his other arm up and put his hand on Hermione's shoulder as well. In the dark, Ron realized she must be at least four or five inches shorter than Harry.

Voldemort materialized as the memory relit and reformed.

_"HARRY! NO!" _ _Hagrid yelled. "NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH - ?"_

Lenora was frantically scribbling down things and looking around the clearing. Parnell and Percy as well. Death Eaters surrounded the small clearing they now occupied.

_"QUIET!" Rowle shouted. _

The place was eerie quiet. Harry's shoulder was stone-still under Ron's hand. Hermione's shoulder shook violently as Voldemort spoke again.

_"Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived." _

Hermione sniffed and a choked sob was muffled as she clapped her other hand over her mouth. The Reviewers stood and waited. A flash of green and then the memory was bathed again in black. Harry whispered to Hermione, "Hush, you know I'm alright." Ron felt her shoulder shake.

"I know," she whispered back with tears prevalent in her voice, "I'm ridiculous." She punctuated that statement with another sniffle.

The darkness lifted as Voldemort rose to his feet. Darkness resumed but they kept hearing the memory, Harry had shut his eyes then.

_"My Lord, let me - " Bellatrix said._

_"I do not require assistance. The boy . . . Is he dead? . . . You. Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead." _

Footsteps drew nearer to them in the dark and then a voice, _"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?" Narcissa whispered lightly._

_"Yes," Harry breathed back._

_"He is dead!" she lied._

The darkness lit up with flashes of light that illuminated the Reviewers and triumphant shouts sounded out.

_"You see? Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!"_

Harry must've kept his eyes closed through it. No sound came from Harry that Ron could tell. . . what the hell?

_"Now, we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body? No - wait - . . . You carry him. He will be nice and visible in your arms, will he not? Pick up your little friend, Hagrid. And the glasses - put on the glasses - he must be recognizable - . . . Move."_

The Reviewers were occasionally lit by a muted light through Harry's closed eyes.

_"BANE! Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn' fight, yeh cowardly bunch o'nags? Are yeh happy Harry Potter's - d-dead . . .?"_

_"Stop," Voldemort commanded and them amplified his voice over the grounds. "Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together." Voldemort stopped addressing the castle and addressed just those around him, "Come." _

_"Harry. Oh, Harry . . . Harry . . . " Hagrid sobbed._

Hermione's shoulders were shaking again and Ron brushed his thumb over the skin of her neck, keeping his fingers on her shoulder. Even in the middle of the memory, Ron marveled at the smoothness of her skin. Right, dancing. . . He tried to compartmentalize this memory in the past. It was so hard to relive the things from only a few weeks ago. When they were just starting to heal and move on, they ripped wounds open again. Blackness, darkness like a tar always sucking them down again.

_"Stop," hissed Voldemort._

_"NO!" _ Ron couldn't place the horrible scream at first, only realizing after it had cut off that it was McGonagall.

_"No!" _Hermione.

_"No!" _Ginny's voice.

_"Harry! HARRY!" _ He heard himself shouting. Harry put an arm around Hermione who was still crying. Ron shuffled forward to press lightly against her back. The sounds of horror amplified awfully.

_"SILENCE! It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"_

_"You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!" _

_"He beat you!" Ron yelled. _

"Thanks for that, Ron," Harry whispered.

"Anytime," Ron whispered back. Hermione gave a shaky sort of laugh.

_"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds - killed while trying to save himself - "_

A series of noises that Ron couldn't place happened in a quick succession. Harry must've opened his eyes just slightly, they saw a person hit the ground nearby.

_"And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"_

A horrible, memorable laugh - Bellatrix.

_"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"_

_"Ah, yes, I remember. . .But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort said, circling Neville. _

_"So what if I am?" _

_"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."_

_"I'll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!" shouted Neville._

Cheers broke through the air.

_"Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it," Voldemort said softly._ The Reviewers watched him summon the Sorting Hat. _"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom? . . . Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me." _

Lenora gasped as they saw Voldemort set the Sorting Hat on Neville's head aflame. A distant roar rang out and Grawp appeared yelling for Hagrid. Harry opened his eyes fully and they saw Neville move as Harry swung the Cloak over himself. Ron watched Neville slice off Nagini's head with a great flying feeling.

_"HARRY! HARRY - WHERE'S HARRY?" Hagrid yelled._

The Reviewers followed the invisible Harry up though the entrance hall, up into the Great Hall. Familiar faces were at every turn, family and friends. Ron concentrated on the feel of the skin of Hermione's neck and not on the fallen at every turn. His mum's voice called his attention.

_"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH! OUT OF MY WAY!" _ Ron grinned at his mum. Who'd have thought it? Mum. The Reviewers watched Molly Weasley get the best of Bellatrix Lestrange, striking down that evil bitch forever.

_"Protego!" yelled Harry. _Harry had shielded mum from Voldemort then. . . Ron had never really known how that'd worked out. Harry reappeared in the crowd to a chorus of happy cries.

_"I don't want anyone else to try to help. It's got to be like this. It's got to be me," Harry addressed the crowd._

_"Potter doesn't mean that. That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?" Voldemort taunted. _ Ron had a sick feeling that he knew exactly what the locket had said to Harry when Harry had worn it. Taunts about how everyone he loved died and he was at fault, Ron guessed.

_"Nobody. There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . " _

_"One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"_

_"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?. . . Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?" Harry said._

_"Accidents!" Voldemort screamed back. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"_

_"You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people - " _

_"But you did not!"_

_" - I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?" _ Ron realized he was holding his breath and tried to not let himself get so involved in it all.

_"You dare - "_

_"Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"_

_"Is it love again? Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter," _Ron heard Hermione hiss at the insult. Ron's blood boiled for Harry. _" - and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"_

_"Just one thing."_

_"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"_

_"I believe both."_

_"You think YOU know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who had performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"_

_"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done," Harry shot back._

_"You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"_

_"No, he was cleverer than you. A better wizard, a better man." _

_"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"_

_"You thought you did, but you were wrong." _

The crowd gasped and Ron looked out and found himself and Hermione, standing as close to Harry and Voldemort as they dared. He was standing halfway in front of her. They were both filthy and thick trails were cut though the dirt on Hermione's face where she'd cried just minutes before. A large cut was bleeding on her cheek. She looked furious and hopeful and terrified. Ron clenched his jaw, looking at the girl he loved.

_"Dumbledore is dead! his body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!" _

_"Yes, Dumbledore's dead but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."_

_"What childish dream is this?" Voldemort asked back, clearly interested._

_"Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle? . . . Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"_

_"He desired her, that was all but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him."_

_"Of course he told you that but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!" _ Ron remembered thinking at the time and wondering how Harry knew that and if Harry was making up things to distract Voldemort. A glance over at himself and Hermione revealed two matching puzzled faces.

_"It matters not! It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great love! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand! Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy - I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"_

Ron missed the next few things that Harry said. It was suddenly as if Dumbledore's plan - his whole strategy - was laid out in ink before them to read plainly. Dumbledore wanted Snape to get the wand. . . Harry told them that in King's Cross, that Dumbledore confirmed that fact. . . Dumbledore knew Harry had the Cloak, knew he had left Harry the Resurrection Stone in the Snitch. . . If Dumbledore wanted Harry to be the Master of Death, then . . . Ron let go of both Harry and Hermione and raked his face with his hands, roughly rubbing his hands over his eyes. Dumbledore intended for Harry to kill Snape then. But then Snape was trying to find Harry to tell him he'd have to go to Voldemort and sacrifice himself. . . But Voldemort had said it himself, Harry didn't need finding, didn't need telling. Harry's "_one great flaw_". . . Dumbledore was sending Snape to Harry with the hope that Harry would kill Snape in a rage, in a misguided attempt to avenge Dumbledore's death. The pieces fit so neatly. Hermione was looking up at him in concern when Ron started to regain the ability to see and think straight again. His mind still reeling, Ron heard Harry explaining what he knew to Voldemort.

_"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you?" _Ron wondered if Harry had guessed at Dumbledore's intentions . . . _"Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard. . . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance. . . . " _

Parnell made a sound that was caught between a laugh and a cough. Ron turned to look at him. Parnell was shaking his head, observing the scene before him. Ron turned back away from him as Harry spoke again.

_"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."_

_"But what does it matter?" Voldemort said. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy . . . " _

_"But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him." _ Parnell inhaled loudly, looking at Harry's wand - formerly Draco's. _"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand." _

"Oh my God - "

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

All three voices spoke at once, Ron tore his eyes away from the connection of Harry's and Voldemort's wands and saw Parnell's face frozen in a horrified expression. Ron wondered suddenly if Parnell had ever seen Voldemort face-to-face like this before today.

The Reviewers watched the Elder Wand leap from Voldemort's hand, still spurting the green of the killing curse and come to Harry: vanquishing its own caster. Voldemort fell still on the ground and after a brief moment of silence, the Great Hall exploded with noise and cheers and the memory dimmed.

Harry's memory darkened and the Reviewers were suddenly in Ron's memory back in the Room of Requirement. Ron chanced a look down at his watch. Already 1:37pm. Brilliant.

_"He's on the move," Harry was saying, "Listen, I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least find out what the diadem looks like. Wait for me here and keep, you know - the other one - safe."_

Hermione looked up at him and whispered over the noise of Harry and Ginny's minor lovers tiff, "Are you alright?"

"Just realized something, remind me later," he whispered back. He was inordinately relieved when she wound her fingers around his.

_"What are we going to do if we do find it? I mean - " Hermione said._

_"How are we going to kill it?" Ron asked her. _Ron hadn't realized at the time that everyone in the room had gone a bit silent and was watching them closely with narrowed eyes.

_"Exactly. We need to sword or - "_

_"Something else," Ron looked at Hermione, smiling. "A basilisk fang?"_

_"Oh! You think we could. . . but how?" Hermione asked._

_"Come on!" _ _Ron grabbed Hermione's hand, dragging her out the door that Luna and Harry had gone through ._

_"Finally, eh?" Seamus quipped to someone they didn't see as Ron and Hermione slipped out of the room. _

_"Alright, we've got to get to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, quickly."_

_"Okay, this way," Hermione pulled him with her. _The Reviewers followed the pair of them through the castle, pausing only to check around corners for unfriendly faces. Finally they were standing in front of the sink in Myrtle's bathroom.

_"Well? Parseltongue?" Hermione asked, dejected._

_"Right. . . Well, how hard could it be? . . .Harry used it for the locket. . ." Ron turned toward the faucet with the tiny snake and made a horrible hissing noise._

Memory-Hermione took a step away from the sink and looked around the bathroom. He knew that look, she didn't think this was going to work.

_Ron made another shushing, hissing noise._

Memory-Hermione had taken her wand out and started to lean down to Ron. Finally, the third hiss made the sink move and reveal the chute leading down into the Chamber.

_"Oh! You did it! That was brilliant, Ron! I was about to see if we could view your memory and see exactly what Harry said but, oh . . . Ok, now what?" Hermione was looking down the chute._

_"Well, we sort of jumped in last time. Erm, I'll go first." _The Reviewers watched Ron sit at the top of the hole and jump in feet first. The memory was dragged along with Ron and they heard bumping sounds that indicated that Hermione had jumped in as well. When Ron reached the bottom, he struggled to get his feet underneath him and stumbled. Hermione barreled out soon after to Ron's waiting hands that caught her and helped her stand.

_"Ugh! It is really filthy down here!" Hermione said, brushing off her hands on her jeans. Ron laughed._

_"You sound like Lockhart. Come on."_

The Reviewers followed the two of them to the wall of rock that Ron remembered from second year. Hermione made quick work of blasting apart the rock in their way and they continued into the chamber. The snake heads on both sides were disorienting and the Hermione holding Ron's hand tightened her grip slightly. Finally, they came up on the skeleton of the basilisk and Ron pulled a couple fangs out of its huge skull. The Reviewers watched him put the cup on the stone floor.

_"Ok, you do it," Ron said to Hermione._

_"I can't," she started._

_"You can. Just stab it." _

Hermione took a deep breath and stabbed the cup with the fang. Water from the pools on all sides rushed up and moved toward Ron and Hermione. The two of them grabbed for each other's hands and started running back out of the chamber, afraid to take their eyes off of the rising wall of water chasing them. The wall of water was much faster and doused them both in ice cold water. The two of them stood gaping like fish out of water for a moment before turning and throwing themselves desperately at each other for their first kiss.

"Seriously?" Harry said, flatly, from beside them.

Parnell laughed loudly and even Lenora joined this time.

"Shut it, Harry," Ron heard Hermione say under her breath.

This kiss was blissfully not as long and embarrassing to relive as the one from earlier. A minute or two later, Ron and Hermione were at the base of the chute again with their arms full of basilisk fangs.

_"Shit! How are we going to - "_

_"I've got it. Um, just. . . be careful with these fangs," she said, taking Ron's from him. "It'd be a shame to go out like that," Hermione said, adjusting her load to grab her wand. "Hold onto me. . .ok?"_

_"Yeah, ok," Ron said wrapping both arms tightly around her waist._

_"ASENDIO!" Hermione cried and aimed her wand up at the speck of light at the top of the tunnel._

The Reviewers followed the pair up back into the bathroom where the memory went dim again. Right, last memory. The realization was like a healing salve. Last one, last one.

The memory reformed and Ron saw himself and Hermione racing down the lawn of Hogwarts to the edge of the forest. Voldemort's speech about Harry being dead had propelled the two of them from the castle as if from a cannon, leading the crowd of people frantically toward the forest.

_"NO!" _ _"No!" "No!" _

_"Harry! HARRY!"_ All of the shouts blurred indistinctly in Ron's memory. Ron and Hermione's eyes were glued to the still form of Harry in Hagrid's arms. Ron watched himself grab uselessly at Hermione as she fell to her knees screaming.

_"SILENCE! It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs! . . .You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!" _

_"He beat you!" Ron yelled, standing and pulling Hermione back up with him._

_"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds - killed while trying to save himself - "_

Neville had jumped forward and been disarmed quickly.

_"And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"_

_"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"_

_"Ah, yes, I remember. . .But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort said. _

_"So what if I am?" _

_"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."_

_"I'll join you when hell freezes over. Dumbledore's Army!" _

_"Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it," Voldemort said softly._ The Reviewers watched him summon the Sorting Hat. _"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom? . . . Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me." _

This time, no one gasped when Neville was basically set on fire.

_"HARRY! HARRY - WHERE'S HARRY?" Hagrid yelled._

The Reviewers watched Ron and Hermione scrambling in the crowd to get to where Hagrid was yelling.

_"But if he's not here, then - ?" Hermione was wiping tears off of her face._

_"INVISIBILITY CLOAK! FOLLOW THE CROWD, QUICKLY!" Ron shouted at her, pushing her to run in front of him. As they ran up the lawn of Hogwarts a flash of purple light hit Hermione, Ron turned, horrified with a scream perched on his lips. Hermione was standing still and whole where she should have been taken down by the hex. She shrugged and after one immobile moment staring at each other, they kept running. A horrible crash came from nearby._

The Reviewers looked up and a giant was waving a tree just barely over their heads, trying to knock down as many fighters as possible.

_"MOVE, HERMIONE!" Ron yelled as the giant swung again. Hermione fell onto her bum and scrambled to flatten herself on the ground. A small, whip-thin branch hit her hard across the face and Hermione shrieked, grabbing her face with one hand. Ron reached down and grabbed her by the other arm, pulling her with him, away from the giant. "Hermione, if Harry is - If he is - then it's got to be us," Ron ground out as the two shot stunning spells into the crowd of Death Eaters. _

Harry sucked in a breath beside them. Hermione's fingers tightened around his. Her grip was so tight it was almost painful.

_"I know," she said back, blasting a Death Eater away from a fifth year Hufflepuff. _

_"'snake's gone so I'll distract him and you'll kill him while he's busy with me, ok?" Ron pulled Hermione by her hand into the entryway of the castle, hitting a fighter with Sectumsempra. _

_"WHAT! No! I'll distract - " _ Ron looked at Hermione carefully in the memory. Her face was shocked, bleeding, horrified and spoke plainly of her feelings for him. For a moment Ron couldn't breathe, they - both of them - would die for each other. Maybe Harry wasn't the only one capable of a kind of sacrificial love. It was boggling to consider that she loved him as much as he did her.

_"Damn it, Hermione," Ron skittered to a stop and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushing her roughly against the nearest wall. "I can't. The manor - Hermione, I'll die if . . . " He brought both hands to her face and looked her square in the eye. "I'll distract, you kill. Alright?" _

_"Alright." _Ron noticed that Hermione shook her head 'no' but answered in the affirmative. She had tears rolling down her face again. They both took off running in the direction of the crowd's movement. An explosion from somewhere unseen shook the ground underneath them and both of them were blown to the ground in the memory. The Reviewers watched Hermione lay still for a moment, holding her head. Ron stood quickly and glanced around, pulling Hermione up by the shoulder of her jacket.

_"Hermione, in case we don't live through this, I love you," Ron said down to her, wiping a finger across the skin of her face, bringing away tears and blood with his hand._

_"I love you too," Hermione smiled slightly through the tears and the pain._

_Another blast shocked Hermione and Ron into moving again. Ron grabbed her hand. "LET'S GO!" _

The memory went dim as Ron and Hermione got into the Great Hall where they knew Harry was moving under the Invisibility Cloak. In a moment all the Reviewers were back in their room. The best room they'd been in and the one they'd been in for the fewest days.

Lenora looked across the table at the three of them with her eyes bright, "I just want to let you three know exactly how much we appreciate you taking the time to share these with us. We know it can't have been easy or enjoyable but we'll be able to use these in trials and we'll be able to keep this record in a secure section of the Department of Mysteries should history ever repeat itself or need to be studied. . . . " She stopped to clear her throat - she was trying not to cry. "It's a great thing you did." Lenora looked at each of them in turn. "All three of you."

Ron felt Hermione brush a finger over the back of his hand.

"Well, that concludes your official time with us but I do hope that you'll stay in touch," Lenora said, gathering everything up.

"We will," Hermione answered for the three of them. Ron looked at Harry who had a small smile on his face.

"Alright, well it's - MERLIN'S BOLLOCKS! - it's three o'clock. Harry, Ron, you can both come upstairs with me, we'll order sandwiches. On me. Harding said he'd need to see you for a bit today, Ron, when I saw him this morning. 'Bout that girl from last week. Harry, you'll just be going over some things with me. I think we're closing in on Travers, finally," Parnell said loudly as he moved to the door, opening it to let everyone out into the hall.

Hermione squeezed his hand tightly and then dropped it. "See you later," she said, walking smoothly down the hall to the lifts.

At his desk, Harding told Ron they had identified the dead muggle girl: Sarah Rider. Only 17. Ron glanced at the list of names Harding kept of Greyback's victims and saw he'd already added the girl's name. Ron and Harry spent the next couple hours married to their study materials and right at five Ron got a flying paper note from Hermione.

_Ron -_

_Working a bit late, should be home around seven or eight. Would you mind terribly just picking up something easy for dinner? I have zero desire to cook. Today has been so long - ugh. See you at home._

_Love,_

_H_

Ron grinned down at the disjointed note. Hermione had actually written 'ugh' and didn't sign her full name. He and Harry agreed they'd pick up some kind of Chinese or something in London and Apparate home with it. Ron kept the note from her in his pocket and it buoyed his mood in spite of the difficult day they'd had. _Love, H _indeed.


	25. Regular Days and Scars

_. . . Chapter 25 _

_. . . Regular Days and Scars . . . _

* * *

That morning, Hermione had woken up bright-eyed and ready beside an equally sanguine Ron. A bubbling lightness had perched over their house on Valona Street and Hermione could tell Harry and Ron felt the same. They were finally taking that decisive and final step forward. The Reviewing was over and they were just 'regular' Ministry employees. How funny that they were working for the people who were hunting them just a month before. In the lift as Ron and Harry moved to step off at their level, Ron turned and kissed Hermione soundly on the mouth before stepping off the elevator. Harry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Get a room." The grille clanged shut and Hermione was left gaping after him in the presence of a thickly built witch still standing in the lift. She sneaked an embarrassed glance at the older lady who was smiling directly at her.

"I've seen worse in these lifts over the course of the last forty years, believe me," she said, grinning and stepping off at the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes without a look back.

Hermione was just getting her blush under control when the elevator stopped and she left the compartment empty, stepping out onto the carpet in the black tiled walls of the corridor. At her desk, Hermione shuffled a few papers around before Grayson materialized behind her.

"So, today?" Grayson started and Hermione turned around.

"Yes?"

"Right, today - the meeting with LaFoe went really well but we don't know anything yet about her approval of the work and then next the bill but we still have to wait on her input about the bill so will you go down to archives and pull previous bills that the Goblin Liaison office has done so we can use those once LaFoe gets back to us?"

"Oh, um, sure. I just - "

"No, no - I'll walk you down. It's a stairway access archive room off of the Office of Misinformation here on this level," Grayson explained quickly.

Hermione pushed her chair back away from her wooden desk and stood up beside Grayson. He was roughly Neville's height. His smile was bright white as he looked down at her.

"So that's a yes, then?" he asked her. She nodded.

As they walked through the expansive sub departments of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hermione looked down at her short nails, paint was peeling off of them most unbecomingly. She silently spelled her polish off with a quick charm Ginny had taught her. At least she'd worn a newer set of dust gray robes with a slight metallic sheen today. The transition in robes every day had been a bit awkward after the last year of wearing whatever they'd felt like. It was like getting put back in a uniform after being done with it for a while. She just wanted to look her best meeting new people in the archives department if she met anyone new.

"So, noticed you came straight here today are you three done with that Reviewing?" he asked and ran a hand through his black wavy hair.

"Oh, yeah. Finally. We basically stuffed a year's worth of events into a stretch of two or three weeks. I personally can't wait for a few more normal days." What was normal in the wizarding world anyway? Befriending Harry and Ron first year had left her with almost no concept of normal. . .

Grayson barked out a laugh. "Understood."

A few moments later and the black tiled walls of the Office of Misinformation dead ended into a large black wooden door. The door was fronted with a gold plaque that read:

_Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Department of Archives_

When the door swung open, a thousand years or so of files and bills and records stretched endlessly up and away on large black shelves. Grayson walked her over to one bay of files.

"Ok, so you've got to ask it for the type of files and such that you need and then," he patted a desk beside himself, "you've got to skim the thing and make sure that it's something useful. We have to check every single one out and the woman in charge of that, Madam Edgecombe, is sort of a stickler. Odette ripped one page in one file last year and is forbidden from checking files out."

Oh, so that answered why Odette wasn't asked to go with her, Hermione thought. Edgecombe . . .

"You wouldn't know if Madam Edgecombe has a daughter? Marietta?"

"S'a matter of fact, I believe she does. Just finished Hogwarts, I believe," he turned to look up at the files, "Show you what you'll do." He raised his wand up and pointed it at one shelf. "Previous Goblin Rights Bills."

About forty or more files rushed out and hovered about a foot in front of their spots on the shelves. Grayson pointed his wand at the desk beside them and the files dove and stacked themselves in five stacks.

"Just read through these and if you see anything you think we should reference check it out with Edgecombe and if you see something that makes you think we should look at more files, bring those down and check them as well, ok?"

"Yeah, alright," she answered. Doing something like this felt a lot like the library at Hogwarts. A more sinister library with black shelves and files. But still, the smell of parchment and dust was so familiar, so ordinary.

"Alright. Thanks then! And if you need anything, just wind your way back out of here and come find me," Grayson offered, kindly.

She nodded back at him and sat down at the desk.

Five and a half hours and upwards of fifty files later, Hermione walked the journey from the desk in archives to the front desk of the department where Madam Edgecombe sat. She levitated the relevant files in front of her and let them fall gently in front of the woman, who looked up frowning.

"Taking all these?" Madam Edgecombe asked.

"Yes, it's thirteen - "

"Obviously. Alright," she looked down at a book with graphed names and numbers. "Name?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, "Hermione Granger."

Madam Edgecombe looked up at her and then narrowed her eyes. "Didn't know you worked here."

"I'm new," she said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Hm," Edgecombe was looking at her with open hostility now. "You know, it took about a year for those boils to disappear of Marietta's face. Left a couple scars, even. A curse she seems to think you were the mastermind of."

Hermione swallowed. Oh gods above. She had in fact been the one to create that particular hex. . . Ron and Harry had been so proud at the time. Anyone who signed the parchment was not to reveal anything about Dumbledore's Army because the parchment was enchanted to reveal it to everyone if you did. Boils.

"You know, she was dosed with Veritaserum, made to betray her own friends, then covered in boils?" Edgecombe gripped the edge of the desk.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know - " she faltered.

"You didn't care, sweetheart," she said, voice dripping in sarcasm. Hermione saw her pick up a quill and fill in _Hermione Granger. Out - 13. _"You and your friends may have been heroes this last year but as far as my family is concerned, you are cruel and nothing more than a bully who enjoys tormenting innocents. Take these," she pushed the files toward the edge of her desk, "and get out of my sight."

Hermione grabbed the files and hugged them to her chest, blinking back tears. It wouldn't do to go crying down the corridor of the Department. She hadn't known it was Veritaserum that made Marietta give up the group. They had always thought it was Marietta's mother forcing her to give in and tell Umbridge on the lot of them. The walk back to her desk felt a lot longer this time. She felt mean and like everyone knew about what she'd done to Marietta. Did many other people know? Her arm itched the whole way back to her desk. She'd marked Marietta, scarred her. The realization made her shudder.

Setting her shoulders and putting that horrible recognition in its own compartment, she put the pile of files on her desk and got out some place markers and spent the majority of the rest of her day going back through the information to locate what she'd thought would be useful down in archives. Odette had started helping her comb through the files at some point and when the clock outside Grayson's office chimed five they stood together to leave.

In the lift, Hermione made the decision to exit at Ron's level and see if he and Harry could go home with her. She stepped out into the circular lift lobby and began walking to where she'd spoken with Auror Silvestri the other day. A flash out of the corner of her eye drew her attention: shoulder length brown hair with streaks of gray. Hermione stopped on the spot and pivoted.

"You!" she practically shouted at him.

"Miss Granger," he greeted flatly, stepping toward her.

"You're the one that's been following me!" she accused.

He frowned at her and shook his hair to cover a particularly nasty scar that cut across his forehead and down one side of his face.

"Not following, you stupid girl. I'm a Preventer."

"A what?" She crossed both arms over her torso.

"A Preventer," he leaned against the cubicle wall of a desk beside them. "It's the newest branch within the Auror Department. A few of us are Preventers now: we go to areas we know have a relatively high wizarding population and basically stand guard. We're Aurors that have been reassigned." Hermione noticed he didn't look pleased when he said 'reassigned'.

"So then - then you're a Preventer in Ottery St. Catchpole?"

"Yes and I happened to see you the other day shopping and we've been informed that anyone who helped bring about the end of You-Know-Who is in a particularly high amount of danger. Once I knew that you lived there, I figured Harry Potter and the other boy did as well so I followed you home. Then I found out that yes, in fact, they did and I tried to watch for you when you were alone as a preventative measure. Well, I actually attempted to follow you that first time. You're quick on the uptake. Ever thought about becoming an Auror yourself?"

Her mind was whirling with new information. "Um, not exactly my cup of tea. So then you'll be around more in the future?" He wasn't stalking her. Preventer. He was protected them then.

"Yes, unless another takes my spot," he had dark brown eyes and looked a bit scary, that scar on his face looked more like a deep burn. He kept shifting his head so that his hair fell in front of the scar.

"What's your name?" she asked. Hermione knew she was being rude but she'd been frightened that this was an imposter in Polyjuice so he owed her something. A name and explanation were going to have to be enough.

"Erasmus Lanning. Call me Erasmus if you'd like."

"Alright, I'm Hermione," she said. He nodded. "In the future, if you are going to be 'preventing' in an area with three wand-happy witch and wizards nearby, you might want to let them know."

He laughed and Hermione could tell it was at what she'd said not at her. "Yes, you're particularly jumpy. We should've let you three know - "

A man came up from the row of desks behind Erasmus and whispered something in his ear.

"Well, Hermione, I've got to run but I'll probably be around the neighborhood fairly frequently so don't jump out of your skin again if you see me following you, alright?" He smiled at her for the first time as she nodded. He walked away and Hermione noticed a slightly limp in his retreating form. How did a Auror get reassigned to Preventer, she wondered. Injury? Missions gone bad? As a punishment? What a weight to get lifted off her shoulders - not a stalker. Thank Merlin and Godric and all of them that that was one less thing to worry about.

"'Mione," Harry's voice came from behind her.

She turned to see Harry and Ron walking toward her both looking glad to see her.

"Hi! Ready?" she asked, falling into step beside Ron.

"Yup, let's go home," Ron said, throwing an arm over her shoulders.

Once they had made it home and Hermione was chopping various ingredients for a stir-fried pasta, Ron jumped up to sit on the counter beside her.

"Actually, now that we're all three together I kinda wanted to ask you about something," Ron said.

Hermione let the knife hover above an onion on the other side of a little shield charm she'd put in place to keep from having her eyes water.

"What?" Harry asked from the table where he was scanning the _Daily Prophet. _

"Well, I was thinking about Snape and Dumbledore - their plan - and realized that if Dumbledore wanted Snape to be the Master of the Elder Wand which he obviously did but he wanted Harry to be the Master of Deathly Hallows when he met You-Know-Who for the last time then. . . Well, Harry he meant for you to kill Snape, didn't he?" Hermione turned with the knife in hand to gape at Ron. Harry spoke first.

"What? N - no! Snape was trying to find me and give me those memories. Dumbledore wouldn't have wanted me to kill Snape. Snape had to give me those before - "

"But that's just it," Ron slid off the counter to lean against the cabinets, "you would've done anyway. He said it himself. You always go and sacrifice yourself for other people anyway, mate."

"But Snape was purposefully telling me what Dumbledore told him to tell me. . ." Harry's words tapered off and Hermione saw a flicker of doubt cross his face.

"Ron, Dumbledore wouldn't - " she started only to get interrupted.

"But he would! He was sending Snape to Harry to give him the memories. Harry thought Snape had killed Dumbledore. Dumbledore was wagering that Harry would kill Snape and become the master of the wand. That's it. 'Greater Good' and all, isn't it?" Ron said. Hermione glanced over at Harry again. It was like watching all the crippling uncertainty he'd had after Rita Skeeter's account of Dumbledore all rush back.

"No, Ron. I don't think so," she said softly and saw Harry lift his head to meet her gaze. "Harry always disarms first. Maybe Dumbledore did mean for Harry to take the Elder Wand from Snape directly but Harry always disarms people first. That's how we heard the truth about Sirius, remember?" she asked them both, glancing from Harry to Ron. Harry looked like he much preferred where Hermione was headed with her line of reasoning. Ron looked like he was turning over her words carefully. "So, maybe, yeah. . . maybe Snape was going to come give him the memories and Dumbledore was hoping Harry would do what he usually does - disarm - and then hear Snape out while he was unarmed thus obtaining the wand and the memories in one swoop?"

Harry nodded, "That sounds more like Dumbledore. He wouldn't have put Snape up to be slaughtered or expected me to do that."

"Right," Ron verbally agreed but looked like he believed otherwise. "Right, that's - that's more like Dumbledore." Hermione was glad to see some of the color return to Harry's face. She turned to finish dinner.

"Oh, almost forgot. Ginny was going to come over later. Ron said you're going into town. Dancing?" Harry asked and Hermione could hear the smile in his voice.

"Indeed," she said, smirking and dumping the chopped ingredients into the waiting olive oil.

"Right, good luck with that," Harry joked.

Dinner passed amicably. Hermione could tell that Ron had more to say on the subject of Dumbledore but was holding back for Harry's sake. Harry was getting more concerned about Travers after Parnell had stopped talking about something abruptly when Harry got to his desk after lunch. Ron and Hermione took turns helping Harry guess at what Travers could be using the Polyjuice for. Gringotts had undergone extra security measures so he wouldn't be able to be there. Hogwarts was swamped with people for the reconstruction effort which, according to page 6 of the _Daily_, was on schedule to be open in time for that fall. The article implied that the castle was partly being healed by the witches and wizards charged with reconstruction and partially healing itself. The three of them agreed that the Room of Requirement was probably not included in the reconstruction of it all. They decided that the room probably couldn't come back from the Fiendfyre. Hermione filled them both in on Erasmus Lanning as well and Ron and Harry both were also ridiculously pleased that that was at least one matter settled.

After a quick shower, Hermione threw on a top and her nicest pair of jeans. Looking at herself in the mirror, she carefully transfigured and altered her top to be a bit more dressy in its cut. She put in her only set of dangling earrings - from Ginny, sixth year - and applied more makeup than usual but less than she'd worn at the ball. She looked through her shoes only to find that she didn't have a single pair of high heels. What girl didn't have high heels? She felt blood rush to her face. She was the worst girl ever, she decided. She transfigured a pair of cute flats into pumps. She had to go shopping - Ginny would be outrageously happy about accompanying her. She'd ask her to go sometime this weekend. Transfiguring clothes like this was ridiculous.

Hermione walked out of her room in her transfigured outfit, feeling particularly attractive at the moment and saw Ron in dark jeans and a dark green button down on. Her heart and stomach flipped over in a combination of happiness, nerves, and desire.

"You look nice, Ronald," she complimented as she drew nearer to him. She didn't miss the way his eyes travelled up and down her form. Hermione found herself nonsensically pleased to elicit any kind of staring from Ron.

He coughed and met her eyes, "You look - whoa." He grinned his lopsided smile at her. Eloquent as ever.

"Thanks. Shall we?" she gestured to the back door. They were going to Apparate to the spot where Hermione had Disapparated from when Erasmus was following her and then walk around. They knew of a couple bars but weren't sure of the dancing aspect so they'd agreed to wander to the few places they knew of and just see. Ron took her hand and Hermione Disapparated them both and they were almost instantly in a dark brick alley. Ron brought his unoccupied hand to Hermione's shoulder and gently backed her up until she was leaning gently against brick.

"You're beautiful, Hermione," he whispered before bringing his lips to hers for a gentle kiss. Much more eloquent, she had time to think before her eyes shut and gentle kisses quickly became more heated. Hermione broke away from him breathlessly after a few minutes with her eyes still closed.

"If we keep this up, I'm not going to want to go dancing anymore," she muttered against his mouth and felt him smile against her lips.

"Right, yeah," Ron said, taking her hand and leading her out of the dark cover of the alleyway. Streetlights lit their path and music pulled them up the road and soon they were standing outside a dingy looking staircase that led down to a basement that obviously held a band. The mural that was painted along the side of the stairs was a blues singer in front of a curtain and surrounded by smoke. Perfect.

"Here ok?" she asked him. His face clearly said no but she was delighted when his mouth said yes. They went down the stairs and found an unexpected lounge -like atmosphere. The band was a four person band of four older men - The Juvenators - from the name on the large drum. Hermione's first thought was how fun it would be to dance to rhythm and blues. Her second thought was that no one else was dancing and they would look ridiculous. . .

"Drinks?" Ron asked, glancing around apprehensively at the people scattered around at tables.

"Yeah, I brought Mug - I - money," she said loudly but the music was so loud Ron had to lean down to her to hear. Some of his hair was so close to her nose. It was like smelling more of that Amortentia in Slughorn's class again. He led her away from the door they'd just come through and they ordered drinks - well, Hermione ordered drinks. She ordered herself a glass of wine and Ron a medium ale. She didn't think it was too large of a departure from drinks that he would have had before. She didn't want to order something ridiculous and scare him off of Muggle establishments forever. They found two chairs in a dim corner and sat together to listen to the band play.

Sometime in the second song they listened to from their seats, Ron had leaned over to ask her about the antique microscope on her shelves. He'd referred to it as a "torture devise" and she'd laughed and leaned into him to tell him what it was. When Hermione leaned over, Ron had put one hand on her thigh and when she leaned away she was terribly pleased that he didn't remove it. The heat of his hand permeated the fabric of her jeans. She smiled and took another sip of wine. No one danced the entire time that they were there but Hermione found that with Ron's hand on her leg and the frequent leaning against each other that they had to do to speak that she didn't much care that they weren't dancing.

That night after they'd Apparated from their alley back to their back yard, Ron had kissed her before her head had stopped spinning from their travel. He ran a hand from the side of her neck down over her transfigured top, cupping and kneading her chest wonderfully. Hermione felt her breath hitch at the contact and let him walk them from the middle of the yard to where they leaned against the brick wall beside the back door. One hand of his wrapped behind her head and cushioned it where it met the hard surface. She tilted her head back experimentally and sighed with delight when he moved his mouth from her lips to her cheek and then her neck.

"So smooth," he muttered huskily against the side of her neck. She almost melted into the wall behind her. Her brain felt a tiny bit fuzzy from the two glasses of wine she'd had but even so, she realized that if Harry and Ginny caught them, they'd never hear the end of it. She brought both hands to push lightly against his chest and he leaned away from her to look at her better. "Inside?" he asked almost as if he was winded. She nodded and he turned to open the back door for her, helping her in. Ron followed her into her room. She flicked on a lamp and they fell together on the bed the instant the door was shut.

He brought a hand to the hem of her shirt and looked at her. She knew he was giving her the chance to say no but this time she bit her lip and nodded at him instead. He reverently brought the other hand to the edge of her shirt and slid it up over her stomach and, breaking eye contact with her, pulled her shirt up and off. Thank Merlin she'd worn a nicer bra tonight. Just a plain tan one but at least it wasn't ratty like a few of the other ones she had during their year on the run. Ron had thrown the shirt over to a spot on the floor and was sitting up above her, looking her over with a marveling sort of look on his face. He put his hands on her, running his finger tips up over her skin on her stomach and coming to the cups of her bra where he let his hand spread out and put delicate pressure on her. She blushed watching his face and felt sexy for the first time in her entire life.

"_Hermione_," he exhaled out before meeting her eyes and leaning back over her to kiss her again. She felt his tongue feeling delightfully around her mouth and couldn't believe that this was her life, that Ron was above her and thought she was attractive enough to act this way. Hermione decided to even the score and brought her hands to the dark green shirt that he had tucked into his jeans. She pulled the shirt up to free it and began working on the buttons from top to bottom, letting her fingers brush his skin as she worked. "Mmm," he groaned against her mouth and she felt like the temperature in the room had suddenly sky rocketed.

He leaned up away from her and let her push the shirt down his shoulders. He had faint crisscrossing lines across his arms from their first trip to the Ministry with Harry. A painful looking scar from where he'd been splinched from their other trip to the Ministry. Ron had a healed but still fresh looking scar diagonally across his right side. He was looking down at her with a hungry blaze about his eyes. She sat up and got on her knees so they were kneeling, facing each other in the yellowish lamp light. She knew in the low light that he'd be able to see the skinny diagonal scar across her torso from their first trip to the Ministry and if he saw her back he'd see the jagged small scars on her upper back as well. She looked at what seemed like Ron's newest scar and brought her fingers to it, slowly tracing its path across his ribs, keeping her eyes trained there.

In response, Ron swiped a hand across her neck - Bellatrix's scar - and then brought that hand to Hermione's collar where she knew that her scar from Dolohov started. She held her breath as he traced the silvery scar with his hand from her collar bone, down between her breasts, to where it stopped just beside her navel. When he reached the end of it she exhaled shakily and met his eyes, looking up at him through her long lashes. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she hoped he still wanted her even though her body was scarred and imperfect, that his scars made him that much more precious to her. Everything she wanted to say died on her lips when Ron kissed her, a bruising, needy, powerful kiss. No more clothes came off that night but that kiss and those touches across scars had left them both naked and raw in front of each other.


	26. Drimet and a Transfer

_. . . Chapter 26_

_. . . Drimet and a Transfer . . . _

* * *

Ron woke up in a daze, jerking awake with a quick panic. What day was it? The weekend had flown by because well, Friday night had been brilliant. And then Ginny had been there on Saturday morning which Ron had not appreciated and then he had cornered Harry about it. Brotherly duties and all that. Harry informed him that he planned to propose to Ginny in May which had Ron simultaneously pleased and worried. Ron had pointed out that Ginny was still too young and Harry had rolled his eyes in his way and pointed out, _"We've all been adults since we were eleven, mate." _ He had a point Ron had to admit.

Then, Ginny and Hermione had gone shopping which was just strange for Hermione. They'd tossed out grass seeds in the backyard the Muggle way because Hermione had insisted it would grow better - she wanted to call Neville in but Herbology wasn't on Ron's menu for home improvements. Finally, Teddy had visited on Sunday. So, quickly doing the math, Ron realized it was Monday morning. He groaned against the pillow and felt Hermione shift behind him. They were bum to bum on the bed. Ron grinned and flipped over to press his bare chest against the back of her t-shirt.

The visit with the Tonks' had been a strange visit. Andromeda had been in a chatty mood so Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny had sat with her and talked in the living room for the longest time. Ted had stayed in the kitchen. While they'd been apart Andromeda had mentioned that Ted's health seemed to be going a bit. There'd been false reports of his death over the wireless the year before and Ron thought wryly just how close to the truth those reports might seem now. He shuffled around silently, living dead almost. Andromeda said that St. Mungo's was baffled by it and kept insisting that he was just tired - he just needed rest. With that, she had requested that they begin keeping Teddy every Sunday if they didn't mind to give Andromeda and Ted a break. Ron had seen Harry's face light up at that. Guess dirty diapers agreed with him then.

Hermione wiggled against him and Ron buried his face in her wild hair. He'd never been able to completely place the smell of her hair. Floral lemony was the best he could do. That didn't even describe it right. Just. . .perfect. He untangled himself from Hermione as her tempus charm startled her awake.

An hour or so later and Ron had plopped down at his desk wondering why he hadn't slowed down to enjoy the weekend more than he had. Harding arrived shortly after.

"Mornin' Ron. Fancy going out to Kent today with a group? Got a lead on Drimet," Harding said, not even sitting down.

Ron stood up, "Sure, I'm ready."

"Ok, good," Harding nodded at him and then looked over the cubicle beside them, "Oi, Bremmer - you busy today?"

"No just filing reports for Keyling, today," came a muffled reply.

"Ok, you mind going with us to Kent? Already got Russell n' me n' Weasley," Harding glanced back at Ron kindly when he said his name.

"Yeah, alright," a young looking bloke with really short cropped hair stood and walked around the cubicle. "When we going?"

"Now if you're ready," Harding said. "You familiar with the Drimet case?"

"Yeah, familiar enough," Bremmer turned and looked up slightly at Ron. "Travis Bremmer, Junior Auror."

"Oh, right! Sorry! This is Ron Weasley, Auror-in-Training," Harding hastily introduced them as they started moving toward the lifts.

"Yeah, I know who you are. Skipped training I heard, impressive," Bremmer said but didn't look impressed. He had a mocking, smirking sort of look about him.

"Nice to meet you," Ron said stiffly.

"I just got done with training a year ago myself," Bremmer said, stuffing a hand down in his pocket. "Imagine it's some of the hardest training anyone goes through for any position in the Ministry."

Ron clenched his jaw and willed himself not to react like he wanted to. He wanted to yell at him that he'd been hunting Horcruxes and fighting for his life over the last couple years but he stood in a seething silence beside Bremmer until Harding started walking again when the Auror that Ron recognized to be Russell joined them.

In the lift, Ron recognized Mafalda Hopkirk already standing inside. She glanced up at him and Ron saw her quickly narrow her eyes in what looked horrifically like recognition. He turned and put his back to her, studiously examining the diamond pattern of the grille. At the Department of Magical Transportation, Ron was the first one off that blasted elevator. He didn't dare look back to see if Mafalda was still watching.

They grabbed a Portkey and landed at the edge of a line of trees in Kent.

"Alright, so," Harding started speaking immediately after the world quit spinning. "Drimet was spotted here. We know he has been spotted in this area before. I'm going to check for his magical signature - see if I can get anything trained on him. Ron, you'll stick with me. We're going to do a pass through of this neighborhood," Harding indicated the forest behind them and Ron wondered what sort of craziness that was. "Bremmer and Russell if you two will please head West, there is another neighborhood a half a mile that way. Meet back here in three hours."

Bremmer - the git - and Russell started off in their direction and Harding turned and set off quickly into what appeared to be a forest.

"Harding?"

"Yeah," he said without looking back at him. Boots crunched on the forest floor.

"Thought you said this is a neighborhood?" Ron asked, stepping over a felled tree.

"Oh, yes. Well it's hidden, you see. Not wards exactly but it is sort of similar. You'll see," Harding stopped a minute later in front of a large white tree that held albino leaves. It was beautiful but disconcerting. Harding stood in front of it and ran his wand down the trunk at chest level. The tree shivered animatedly for a moment before in a flash of light and a rush of noise it dropped all its bleached leaves around them, blotting out the sight of the rest of the forest around them for a moment. Ron almost shouted in surprise but when the white leaves cleared they were in the middle of a residential street. Harding was grinning back at him. "Neat, eh? Been here once or twice before, myself. Never gets old. Come on."

Ron was still wondering what had just happened when Harding had taken out his wand and was performing the set of movements that Ron knew would help determine magical signatures. He tried in vain to memorize the movements of Harding's wand, surreptitiously moving his wand in a similar manner. They walked by a house that was definitely using some of the same magic mum had going at the Burrow. The house was so crooked it should've fallen over. Harding finally noticed Ron moving his wand around.

"Oh! Sorry, Ron! You should've said something. We'll start doing this verbally so you can get the hang of it. I didn't even think about it," Harding said looking decidedly apologetic. "Here. We're going in this house, his signature is picking up around this area." Harding started up the front walk of a house with Ron close behind him. "Alright, Ron. Signature spells: once you have a confirmed area where you know that a witch or wizard had been, you can do a reading and get the pattern of their magical signature. Sometimes a person has a strong, easily identifiable one and sometimes not. Dark magic leaves stronger traces so that helps us. Only the person performing the spell can read the signature so while you've been watching me do some fancy wand work, I've been reading a pattern. Ok, so we know Drimet has been here but - " Harding cast _Homenum Revelio_ quickly, " - isn't here now. So, bring your wand up, point it directly in front of you. Swish down, diagonally and say _**'**__Appareo Chirographum' _and you should see a pattern of crisscrossing." Harding opened the door and they walked into the front room of the crooked house.

"_Appareo Chirographum,_" Ron said, feeling his ears redden in a wave of self-consciousness and swishing his wand through the air. Nothing happened. Shit.

"No, s'alright. Ok, you swished too fast, try it slower," Harding explained.

Ron repeated it and saw a pattern of crisscrossing lines in front of him of varying brightness. Harding smiled at Ron's expression.

"Yeah, worked for you?" Ron nodded at him. "Well done. Ok, you can kind of use your wand to trace those lines, pick a few of the brightest ones, that helps. This is why we - Aurors - are only assigned a few Death Eaters that we are to concentrate on instead of being on all cases at once. You have to memorize the lines that way you can remember them should you come across Drimet again," Harding said and Ron tried to commit the sight of the pattern to memory. The lines began to fade in front of Ron's eyes.

"Don't worry, we'll do that particular spell again before we leave so that you get the hang of it. Now that you know that's his signature, you can cast _**'**__Appareo Chirographum' _and swish your wand where you know a few of the brighter lines of his signature fall and determine if it's a match. Easy to get wrong but dead useful if you get it right. Right, come on," Harding turned from him and walked through the house. "Alright, no one is here with us so I'll check downstairs, you go up and see if there's anything that looks out of place or like it's been recently brought here."

Ron went upstairs and started clearing the rooms one by one like the handbook had mentioned. In the third room a voice behind him shouted, "_EXPELLIARMUS!_" Ron's wand flew from his hand before he had time to turn toward his attacker.

"You're dead, Ron! Merlin's left foot, how the hell did you three manage it with senses like that!" Harding was laughing at him. Ron felt his face heat up in shame. "Never you mind that, just always stay on those big toes of yours and I'll do that - test you - every once in a while so don't be too shocked and always - even when you think you're alone - listen for footsteps and feel for things, ok?" Harding handed Ron's wand back to him. "Alright, looks like he hadn't been here for a while there's a veil of dust over everything so that tipster officially can kiss the darkest part of my arse. Let's walk through the area and just check it out while we're here, yeah?"

"Yeah, alright," Ron still had splotches of embarrassed color on his face when they walked back down the stairs.

"Oh and Ron?" Harding said, walked across the floorboards back into the front room.

"Yeah?" More ridicule, then? Excellent.

"You and Harry both should think about taking up some sort of a fitness regimen," Harding said but he must've seen the puzzled look on Ron's face because he explained further as they walked back out into the sunlight. "Aurors-in-Training always are required to run to locations for exercises, sometimes up to five miles or so. We - the Department - have found that peak physical fitness is often reflected in the strength of spells and the endurance of wand work when you're using some more draining spells in the field."

Ron nodded. Made sense.

"Personally, I like running some days and then good old fashioned push-ups and the like on other days but it really is up to you," Harding said, kindly.

"Alright, thanks. We will," Ron said as he scanned the neighborhood visually for anything that looked off. He thought running sounded boring but doable. Then maybe one-on-one quidditch with just Harry and the Quaffle when they got a chance. "So then, Bremmer earlier was sort of right? He said that . . .Well, made it seem like he was saying that he didn't think we should have skipped training."

"Aw, Bremmer is an asshole. Sure training is important but you and Harry have kind of done your own form of training, haven't you?"

Ron smiled and felt a flush of pride at that. His thoughts exactly. "Yeah, I guess."

"And anyway, you're both in training in your own way. You're with me. Harry's with Parnell. You'll know what you need to know at the end of it and that's really what matters," Harding stopped and Ron saw him snap his head to the left. Ron jumped and pointed his wand down between two houses. Harding let out a laugh. "Good one, Ron. Not gonna let anything get the jump on you this time. That's what I meant about staying on your toes."

Grinning, Ron followed Harding when he started moving again. After walking a while, Harding made to turn around and Ron decided they weren't in any immediate danger. "What about missions and things like that? Harry and I had heard - "

"Oh, right. Well yeah those are, well they come up whenever they come up and it could be anything from a mission to guard Gringotts from intruders - ," Harding cut his eyes at Ron who bit back a smirk, " - to going to Portugal and preventing civil war which is where Keyling and Elwood are today I believe, leading a small team."

"Portugal?"

"Right, yeah. Portugal is having a bit of an internal crisis right now. About an eighth of the magical population there is in talks to secede from the Portugal Ministry of Magic and form their new government: The Reformed Governing Magical Party. The RGMP has leanings similar to those of You-Know-Who's followers. You know: blood purity, Muggle subservience, lesser beings, etc."

"So our Ministry gets involved in that?" Ron asked, wishing Harding would take off his robe in the heat so that he felt appropriate doing the same thing. He used a finger to pull at his collar to let a whisper of air brush his neck.

"Oh yeah, all the time. Anytime something as big as that happens, we're there. We don't think they will actually form the RGMP or anything but we've got people over there just in case, sniffing out anything that sounds unusual. The group is a bunch of crack pots though that keeps talking about some all powerful weapon that they're going to get and threatening to come here to England. Bunch of nutters," Harding said as they walked back by the crooked house. "Oh! Spell again, Ron."

Ron cleared his throat, "_Appareo Chirographum," _and this time tried to remember the pattern of lines. He thought he'd done it wrong when nothing happened immediately. Then the crisscrossing lines reappeared, the lines he'd successfully matched lit up in red. "It worked! Holy hell," Ron muttered. Is this how Hermione feels, then? He wondered. When a spell works perfectly with almost no practice?

"Yeah, good! Now you've got Drimet. Don't be alarmed if you forget the pattern before next time we run across him. Always takes me a few tries to get it right consecutively."

As they reached the spot where the tree stood, leafless, Ron knitted together what Harding had just been saying about the weapon with the way Parnell acted during the battle Ministry. Harding said the group in Portugal was working to obtain an all-powerful weapon from England. The Elder Wand. Ron felt his chest clench painfully in realization.

Harding ran his wand up the tree again and in a flash of leaves rushing back up to their spots on branches, Ron and Harding stood in the forest again with yellow sunlight dappling the forest floor. Ron followed Harding silently, mulling over the Elder Wand. So if the group in Portugal wanted it, then the Elder Wand wasn't safe because so many people knew about it. Harry had said so during the final battle - that's why Parnell had been so horrified! Harry had announced the invincibility of the wand and in the same breath had said that a simple disarming spell had been enough to take it from Dumbledore.

The master of the Elder Wand was a target again. Harry was a target. Hermione and he were living with one of the most dangerous and wanted people all over again.

That night the three of them gathered around the kitchen table at home and Ron explained to them the nature of the problem with the Elder Wand. Harry jumped up defensively from the table when Ron mentioned he should let someone else be the master of the wand.

"No, Ron! This was - I talked to Dumbledore's portrait and we agreed that it could lay with him and when I die a natural death then the wand will lose its power," Harry said, starting to pace around the kitchen while Hermione sat there silently, thinking.

"Disarming, Harry," he said bracingly, "Disarming is enough. Harding disarmed me in the blink of an eye today. What if Parnell decides to test you like that? Then Parnell is the master of the wand! What if it is a Death Eater? Then a random Death Eater is the master of the wand. You can't be the master because everyone knows you are and even if you felt safe enough with that - "

"It's not a matter of feeling safe. It's my responsibility," Harry said in typical Harry fashion. Ron ran a hand through his red hair in irritation.

"Ron's right Harry, you've pretty much got a target painted on your back anyway just for being who you are. You can't be the master of the wand because you'll put that power up for grabs," Hermione spoke softly. Ron heard the worry that laced her voice.

"Then who? We didn't trust the Reviewers with the whole truth about the Hallows," uttered Harry.

"I think it needs to be one of us - " Hermione started.

"I'll do it," Ron cut Hermione off quickly, "I'll disarm you and then I'll be the master of the Elder Wand - "

"That won't work, Ronald," Hermione declared. "Didn't you just finish telling us how easily you got disarmed today?"

Ron felt like a complete moron. Harding disarmed him easier than pie today and here he was volunteering to take the power for the wand. Harry was silent but had stopped pacing and was looking at Hermione.

"I'm going to be the one of us that uses my wand the least," she said quietly, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Of the three of us, I am the safest bet for master of the Elder Wand."

Ron shook his head and ran a hand over the stubble on his cheek. She was going to be the death of him - volunteering for this mess. He hated it. Hated that he didn't see a way around it.

"Hermione, I'd - " he started to tell her how he'd prefer if she didn't have it but she cut him off.

"It's the best plan we've got. I don't trust anyone outside of the three of us with it," Hermione said.

"She's right," Ron had to reluctantly agree and helped her explain it to Harry. "She's right and I wish she wasn't." Harry nodded at the pair of them and looked uncomfortable as he pulled his wand out of his back pocket.

"Alright," Harry said, leveling his wand on Hermione who stood up slowly. "Alright, fine. We do not tell anyone about this. . . Ever. No one can ever know that you're the master of the wand." Harry looked at Ron and then back at Hermione who had pulled her wand out as well.

"Agreed," Ron said with a sinking feeling.

"Yes," breathed Hermione in agreement."_Expelliarmus._" Harry's wand flew through the air to Hermione who looked at it strangely before putting it down on the table in front of her.

Hermione was the newest master of the Elder Wand.


	27. Caresses and Spilt Blood

**AN: Remember how this story is rated M? Ok, just checking. Haven't said this in a while so: don't own, just playing.**

_. . . Chapter 27_

_. . . Caresses and Spilt Blood. . . _

* * *

The warm pressure of a hand on the bare skin of Hermione's back brought the night before rushing back to the forefront of her mind. Last night when Ron had come into her room, he'd told her how scared he was that she was the master of the wand and she, rather than feed him blasé platitudes, had boldly grabbed him on either side of his face and kissed him deeply. Dragging him into bed on top of her, Hermione had made quick work of relieving Ron of his shirt and had delighted in tracing her fingers lightly down his back. Every time she reached just above the edge of the back of his trousers she'd skimmed her fingers from the back to the front and then back up his chest.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you have got to quit that," Ron had said with his lips pressed against her neck, grabbing one of her hands. She moved her captured fingers and Ron let go of her hand and leaned up to look down at her. Blushing, she had grabbed her tank top that she'd had on under her robes and arched up to take it off of herself. Ron's eyes darkened and moved down to her chest which she'd outfitted in a new bra - one of many she'd managed to go and get over the weekend when she and Ginny went out for part of the day Saturday. She felt her face heat up traitorously. But if his reaction was any indication, Ron approved of the black lace purchase. Hermione had gotten one that was lined in tan material, however, she couldn't see herself wearing something all lace and see through yet. All embarrassment evaporated when Ron groaned - "trying to kill me" - under his breath as he looked down at her. She smirked up at him. Something about the way the light played off of his skin, dusted with light freckles, made her breath catch painfully. Hermione had leaned up toward him and was pleased when he leaned down and captured her lips with his own. After a while, Ron had obviously quit trying so hard not to squish her and Hermione broke away to catch her breath. With a stroke of inspiration, she had brought her legs to Ron's hips and gently flipped them so that she was astride his lap and he lay back against the pillows. She blushed now as she remembered leaning over his face and kissing him slowly with her hair falling like a curtain around them, walling off a view of their joined mouths from the world. Ron's hands had moved over her chest and then around her back where Hermione felt him hesitate at the clasp of her bra. She sat up on his lap and looked down at him.

"Oh, we don' t have - I just wanted - ," Ron started to explain but stopped when she smiled and bent her arms behind to unclasp the bra herself. The straps on her shoulders held it in place even after she had unfastened it. She let her hands fall back to her sides before reaching each of her hands for one of Ron's. She knew her face was Gryffindor-red but felt a sort of daring fearlessness as she brought his hands to hold her on either side of her waist and then let go when she felt his fingers wrap around her sides. She closed her eyes when she felt Ron's hands slowly smooth up her sides and then his thumbs reached under the loose underwire of her bra. She opened her eyes to watch his face and bit her lip in nervous expectation. Hermione felt him shift his hips under her and struggled to breathe when she felt his hardness press against her center. Ron worked his hands under her bra and felt the full weight of both of her breasts. Hermione let her head fall back at the intimacy of the touch - the first time anyone had ever touched her like that. She felt his hands continue up and lift the straps of the bra up from her shoulders and then down her arms. Bringing her head back to look down at him, Hermione had been shocked at the undone look on Ron's face, the fascinated way he stared at her face and then at her upper body. Experimentally, she had moved her hips above him, grinding against him, and he'd clutched at her bare chest and gritted his teeth. She smirked down at him and he narrowed his eyes at her, swiping this thumbs against the sensitive peaks of both breasts at the same time. She gasped and he grinned and said, "turnabout is fair play," in a deep, roughened voice.

He'd flipped her over not long after that and he'd brought a hand to cup her bum through her jeans. They'd pressed against each other through their jeans torturously until finally Hermione had pushed him up and shimmied out of her jeans. She was disappointed when Ron didn't immediately do the same but lost that disappointment quickly when she felt his hands graze the edge of her knickers at the edge of where her leg met her panties.

Hermione sucked in a breath and looked at him hovering above her with his hair a mess. She could see the question in his eyes and realized she wasn't sure if he had done this before with anyone. He dragged his finger along the edge again and she met his eyes, hoping he couldn't read the jittery tension there. "'Mione?"

"Yeah?"

"We don't have to - " he said but didn't move his hand from where his fingertips blazed against the skin of her inner thigh.

She surprised and shocked even herself when she admitted, "No, I want you to."

Ron leaned to kiss her hard, dipping a gentle tongue into her mouth, and Hermione felt her stomach quiver with nerves as he slipped a couple fingers into the edge of her knickers. His fingers grazed across her and Hermione gasped against his mouth at the intensity and intimacy of Ron's touch across her most private spots. She realized she was shaking and shivering with nerves but was glad when Ron didn't ask about it. One of his fingers pressed against her opening and she blushed at how wet she was. Ron released her mouth with a sound that was growl and groan mixed together and she felt a wave of self-consciousness barge in where only desire had been a moment before. Ron watched her face as he slid one finger slowly inside of her. Hermione gasped in the dim light of her room.

"Oh, god, Ron," she whispered as she felt his finger move and let her head fall back against the pillow, keeping her eyes on Ron's enraptured face. Minutes later, Ron had pressed his thumb against her, keeping his finger inside her and brought Hermione to a gasping, shaking release as she arched up off the mattress panting and crying out lightly, meeting Ron's eyes with hers. She grinned sheepishly as soon as she could control her facial expressions again and Ron grinned fully back at her, taking his hand back from Hermione's knickers. Hermione reached, her whole body still feeling slack from the exertion of the moment, and brought a hand to the button on Ron's jeans. Ron realized what she was going for and stood beside the bed to take his jeans off himself. Hermione smirked at him in his hurry to lose his trousers and tried not to feel embarrassed at how personal all these newest touches were. Ron stood in gray boxers and Hermione grabbed his closest hand to bring him back down beside her so that they were together again on the bed. Hermione felt his eyes on her and licked her lips. She brought one hand to his stomach and trailed it down slowly. Deciding honesty was the best policy, as she brought her fingers to the edge of the elastic and whispered, "I don't know what I'm doing. I've never done this - any of this - before."

He grinned at her in a lopsided sort of way. "That's perfect," he breathed back. Hermione slipped her hand inside his shorts, gasping at the feel of him when she took him in her hand. She fumbled for a moment before feeling incredibly embarrassed.

"You're going to have to help me," she said but it sounded less than sexy so she amended, "show me," blushing all the while. Ron put his hand over hers and guided her movements up and down and how hard to hold him and Hermione delighted in every moan and hiss Ron let out even though she had to be shown what to do. Ron's hand let go of Hermione's after a few minutes and she felt him bring a hand up to her still bare chest, winding the other in her hair to bring her mouth to his. Almost instantly, Hermione felt Ron's entire body tense and heard him roughly breathe out, _"Hermione!" _, as he came. Just a moment later he looked at her like he'd never seen her before.

"You - Hermione - wow, " he had exhaled a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh and reached for his wand to clean them up before grabbing her to him to drift off into a well-earned sleep in their skivvies.

Now, in the earliest morning light, she lay there considering how far they'd come in the last year - from not even speaking about their feelings to the newest levels of highs they had reached - until the charm interrupted their bliss and woke Ron up. Nerves that had lay dormant since the night before reawakened when Ron looked at her very nearly starkers body.

"Hmm," he smiled sleepily at her, "_good _morning." He eyed her up and down and she lost the battle with her blush.

"Good morning," she said primly, well, as primly as one could with their breasts pressed into the sheet beside their boyfriend. He grinned and leaned to kiss her on her nose before rolling out of the bed. She made sure he had shut the door before getting up and starting her day.

At the Ministry, Hermione had barely enough time to get settled before Grayson was striding toward her with Odette by his side.

"Hermione! Morning," Grayson started and Hermione glanced at Odette who looked particularly pleased, "Good news! LaFoe said that your background research for the legislation was really, really good so she made a few comments here and there in your report." Grayson waved the rolled parchment around in the air between them. "You and Odette are going to edit this and get it polished up and then when that is done, you'll start work on the writing of the bill which will take a while if we're honest with ourselves."

"A while?" Hermione asked for clarification.

"Well, you'll write a draft. I'll edit it. You'll fix. I'll edit. You'll fix - basically until we can't possibly repeat that one single more time and then we'll submit it to LaFoe who will edit and then we," he motioned to the three of them, "will fix, and then resubmit. . ." Grayson must've noticed the slightly crestfallen look on her face. "Oh, it won't be that bad. Maybe it goes before the Wizengamot in late August?"

"Oh, alright, you had me wondering there," she said, fixing a reassured smile on her face.

Grayson handed the report to Odette and then looked between the two of them. "Split the work just however you see fit. Let me know when you've edited this and we'll meet and go over the bill writing process." Hermione nodded as did Odette and they set to work for the remainder of the day. Around four, Hermione got a memo from Ron.

_Mione - _

_Got a tip on some Death Eater activity in - well I can't tell you where because it's a raid but we're going. Harding asked me and Harry to go for a bit more field experience. You know how he's been trying to teach us what we missed in training. Don't wait for dinner. Can't wait to see you again tonight._

_love,_

_ron _

She blushed reading his last sentence wondering if he meant to reference last night. Suddenly last night was all she could think about. She found it harder and harder to concentrate more as the day went on as she remembered every branding touch and emotion from the night before and worried about Ron and Harry's raid. Somewhere during the course of her ponderings that day, Hermione came to terms with the fact that Ron had most likely had done _that_ with Lavender before and while she wished she'd gotten there first for _that_ she tried not to let it bother her too badly. Surely she would know if they'd gone farther than that, he would surely have told her - wouldn't he? Her stomach twisted horribly imagining the possibilities.

Leaving the Ministry alone was so much less stressful by Floo and in minutes Hermione had landed in a tiny flurry of ash on the large rug in their living room. Hermione cleaned the ash off and tossed her robes across the arm of the brown couch. Without Harry and Ron here she decided to be lazy and pour a large bowl of cereal right then. She decided to eat it quickly, standing at the counter just in case they came home and made fun of her for eating at a quarter after five like a grandmother. Positioned at the counter, Hermione looked out the kitchen window and saw Erasmus leaning against a streetlamp and seemingly looking at the house. She smiled at him and waved her spoon in greeting before remembering their wards hiding the house. He couldn't see her at all and she'd just waved a milk covered spoon around and flicked more than one drop of milk onto the counter. Brilliant. Thank Merlin that Ron hadn't seen that display.

An _tap-tap_ on the window in the living room signaled the arrival of an owl, Hermione opened the window to let a medium gray owl in the window. It wasn't a Ministry owl, judging from its rumbled feathers and the half unrolled scroll tied around its claw. Hermione took the scroll from him and gave him one of the flakes out of her cereal in lieu of a treat. It hooted and flew back out happily and Hermione glanced back out at Erasmus who was watching the owl fly back out of their wards with narrowed eyes.

Hermione looked at the roll of paper in her hand and accidently caught the name "Harry" scrawled in Ginny's handwriting before dropping it back on the counter to let Harry read it whenever he and Ron came in. Bored at the prospect of spending the evening alone, Hermione went to her room and pulled her well worn copy of A History of Magic off of the shelf and curled up against the arm of the sofa for hours, absorbing and recommitting all the facts therein to memory.

Hours flew by and Hermione retired to her room only to toss and turn on the mattress, fully aware that the reason she was having trouble was that a tall redhead was missing from her side. Hermione turned onto her side and stared at the scars on her arm in the light that sneaked in her window. She remembered waking up in Shell Cottage to Ron holding her hand with his other hand wrapped protectively around the white bandage that hid her scars. He had obviously slept that night cradling her wounded arm against his thigh as he sat in a chair that was pressed against the side of her bed. Hermione knew, running a finger over the horrible insult, that the only reason she'd survived - the reason she'd managed to hang on - had been the knowledge that if she '_died under questioning' _then Ron would be next and the repetitive thrum of his voice calling her name over her torture. That day at the manor, she'd summoned strength she never knew she had and drawn each breath deliberately and never once wished she could die to escape the pain. Ron's voice shouting from the cellar called her back from the brink every time she got close to wishing for relief.

Hermione let her finger stall on the 'B' when the sound of Apparation came from the back yard. She sprung out of bed and grabbed her wand as she opened her bedroom door to the sight of two young men covered in blood. She lit her wand wordlessly, running toward them.

"What happened! Are you ok?" she practically shrieked at them, grabbing a hand full of Harry's robes. In the bluish light of her wand, Harry's face looked worn but clean of blood. Ron's face had streaky blood marks across his skin. Neither one responded and they both looked shell-shocked. Shell-shocked and tired. "SOMEONE TALK TO ME! Are you hurt! Either of you?"

"No, 'Mione, we're not. I'm - I just want. . . I'm going to sleep. See you in the morning," Harry said, moving away from them and leaving Hermione staring after him before she turned to Ron.

"What happened?" she whispered, bringing a hand to his face to make sure that it wasn't his blood. He shook his head at her. "Are you hurt?" she asked gently. Ron looked down at her and shook his head 'no' so she gently grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her into her room. She lead him to sit on her bed and _accioed_ a bowl from the kitchen and a wash cloth from her bathroom. Ron looked up at her face as she levitated the bowl beside her and cast a quick '_aguamenti_' to fill the bowl with water. Hermione dropped the cloth on the bed beside Ron and moved to stand between his long legs.

"'Mi?" Ron said quietly and she looked slightly down at his eyes. Funny that it took him sitting to get them almost at eye level.

"Yeah?" said Hermione softly back to him.

"Say - say you love me," he commanded weakly.

Hermione's legs immediately weaken and she dropped her wand beside him on the bed. "I love you, Ron. Always and . . . Do you want to talk about it?" She watched him shake his head no. "Alright, let me help you out of these," she breathed in the dark. Thinking better of helping him clean up in the dark, Hermione stepped to turn her lamp on. Hermione got a better look at his face. The marks weren't streaks of blood they were more splatters. She bit her lip to keep herself from asking him what happened again and moved both hands to the top button of his robe, working down and gently shoving the fabric off of his broad shoulders. He slid it out from under himself to let it fall and rest on the floor. His Chudley Cannons t-shirt he'd worn under his robes had a large patch of blood stain on his upper chest. An Auror with a Chudley Cannons shirt hidden under his robes: adult and child in the same breath. She brought her hands to his sides and was met with no resistance as she pulled the faded orange shirt off of the man she loved. She threw the soiled shirt down on top of his robes and picked up the white rag and dipped the corner of it in the lukewarm water.

Hermione brought the wet edge of the cloth to his cheek, glancing at his blue eyes and hesitating for a moment as she washed the blood off of his face. He looked so deeply shaken that she knew if she made eye contact again with him she wouldn't be able to keep from asking him what happened again so she studied the way the blood left behind his clean, light skin in the wake of the cloth. The silent stretched on between then as Hermione dipped, cleaned, dipped, cleaned she decided to fill the emptiness between them.

"When we were at Shell Cottage," she started speaking with the first thing that sprung to mind, rubbing the cloth down his neck. "Fleur sang a little ditty in French while she helped me take that first bath." She dipped the cloth back in the water and the only sound in the room was the dropping of the water from the cloth back into the bowl. "I can't speak French but . . . ," she swallowed thickly before starting to hum the tune to La Vie en Rose.

He was suddenly looking directly at her. "Parnell arrested Travers." She stopped humming. Hermione knew that wasn't the whole story so she waited patiently for him to speak again. She had his face and neck clean in a couple short minutes. "Before he could get to him, we all went in and Bremmer, that Junior Auror, raised his wand to Travers."

Hermione dipped the cloth into the bowl and gulped when she saw how pinky-red the water had become. The yellow light of her lamp lit his skin and blue-white moonlight fell through her blinds across him. Warm and cool light side by side. She stared at it his skin while he talked. "Travers hit him with some hex. I was so close. . . The hex split him apart, Hermione. Pieces. Blood flew everywhere," he finished in a strangled whisper. She inhaled sharply and started to wash a spot on his chest clean of blood. The spot had been about the size of her hand and when she dropped the cloth into the bowl with a sort of finality she moved to place both hands to his shoulders but before she could place her skin against his he had reached up and grabbed both of her hands with his.

"Harry disarmed Travers almost instantly - so quickly but, you know, not before. . . - and then Parnell Stunned him. . . I'm worried about Harry. He hasn't talked, I mean really, really talked to anyone about last year, about You-Know-Who, about anything important. At least not to me," Ron finished, blinking rapidly.

"Me either," she said quietly, tangling their fingers more tightly together between them.

"You'll help me look after him?" he asked and she nodded when she was really more worried about the man in front of her who'd just been so close to a fatal curse. "Good, he's such a suffer in silence type. We'll have to force it out of him if he needs our help. You know him." He sighed with a weariness beyond his years that Hermione recognized completely before he lay back in bed still in his trousers and patted the mattress beside him. They wiggled between the sheets and Hermione lay on her back. Ron turned on his side toward her, tucking his head at the crook of her neck and shoulder, wrapping an arm over her stomach. Hermione could tell from Ron's harsh breathing that it took Ron a very long time to fall asleep.

* * *

**AN: I usually don't beg but. . . please, please review! I was really nervous about this chapter and the way I handled Ron and Hermione getting to know each other more physically. Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!**


	28. Passage of Time and a Birthday

_. . . Chapter 28 _

_. . . Passage of Time and a Birthday . . . _

* * *

The rest of June and most of July slithered by in a blur. Per Harding's recommendations, Ron and Harry had started and kept up a fairly routine schedule of running and going to hit the Bludger back and forth at the Burrow. Every once in a while Hermione would join them for a run only to get upset when her shorter legs were aching before theirs. He and Hermione had given up the pretense of ever starting out in separate beds entirely and both stayed in Hermione's room every night without fail. Their relationship had progressed into something even deeper and more serious since that night she'd helped him clean up after the raid that they had bagged Travers on. He and Hermione had reached a plateau physically before taking that final plunge and Ron for one was aching to finally take that step but was reluctant to force the issue when everything else had been going so well. Well, everything with their relationship had been going to well. . .

Everything else was a mess. Greyback had two confirmed victims at the most recent full moon, a young girl who would suffer with lycanthropy and another that didn't make it. One other victim, a nine year old boy had died as well where Greyback was suspected but unproven. That was last week. Maxwell had gotten a new confirmed Death Eater to pursue, Bertie Gordan. Evidence had been gathered about that scumbag about the torture of the family of a few hold outs at the Ministry who had refused to aid in the Muggle-born Registration Committee last year.

Harding had told them that Keyling and Elwood had reported back that the situation in Portugal was righting but Hermione had insisted on staying the master of the Elder Wand. Ron and Hermione had had their first big fight as a couple about the matter of the wand. Their first freeze out immediately followed, she didn't speak to him for almost a full day. The kicker was they still shared her bed so Ron had known she was silent on principal alone.

Hermione had broken her silent spell when Harry and Ron had wisely, and sneakily, asked her for her help with one of their newest spells they had to learn for the field. Hermione's curiosity beat out her anger and she'd forgotten to be mad at them as the three practiced blood identifying spells. Ron had pricked his finger and let a drop fall on the ground and they'd practiced the incantation, "_Sanqui Quis," _and then said_ "Ron Weasley_," to try to identify the person the blood had come from_._ As was standard, Hermione had mastered it first and then watched them perform it successfully as well and was sitting on the grass when she realized she'd been tricked into speaking with Ron. _"You're both more Slytherin than I bloody well thought! You can BOTH kiss my arse!" _Ron and Harry had laughed at her indignation as she had stomped back into the house with her curls bouncing in righteous anger. That had been about a month ago.

And now, Harry's birthday fell on a Saturday and Harry had asked that they invite the Weasleys and their friends for dinner that night. Harry was grabbing water for Ron and Hermione who were attempting to install a Caterwauling Charm in addition to their wards. Dad had suggested adding a layer of protection to the house if they were inviting a crowd in. Ron and Harry had found the basics of it in the guidebook section about Defensive Location Spells but the theory proved easier to understand than it was in execution.

"Ron! You're going to put someone's eye out!" Ron shot her a look. The phrase struck a chord he couldn't place. "Quit waving your wand so much. Look at the diagram, it's like this," Hermione admonished and made what looked like exactly the same movement as Ron's previous try. Her hair moved and shimmered as it caught the light.

"That looks exactly the same, Hermione!" he said and she frowned up at him and looked at the back door when Harry reemerged.

"Harry! We need two wands to get this right according to the book and _Ronald _seems to think it's impossible," Hermione huffed and crossed her arms around her chest. Even though he rankled at her words, she practically glowed in the late July sun with the golden light glistening off of a thin sheen of moisture on her face and that t-shirt showed a hint of cleavage when she crossed her arms . . .

Harry grinned and handed Hermione a glass of water instead of pulling out his wand. "You'll get it." Hermione looked crossly up at Ron and then back at Harry whose smile grew. "Please, Hermione? It'll be the first present I get today." Harry sat down on the grass and leaned back to watch them looking for all the world like the relaxed eighteen year old he should be on his birthday.

Hermione turned to look up at him and said primly, "Alright, Ron. Watch." She did the spell and Ron paid extra attention to the way she moved her wand.

"Ok, got it. Ready?" Ron said.

"On my count?" she asked. The spell had to be performed by two wands in sync and they'd been at it for at least seven tries by now. He nodded. "Alright, one . . . two . . . three."

"_Sonitus Concutio_," they both said in unison and a jade light burst out from both of their wands and they watched it flow up, meet the invisible dome of the wards, and spread out to cover their house and yard before dissipating. Ron laughed in surprise and looked at a disappointed Harry.

"Sorry, mate. Amuse you with our banter later," Ron promised, throwing an arm around Hermione's slim shoulders.

"That's alright. I'll catch it next time." Harry pushed himself up off the grass with one arm. Ron heard him sigh lightly.

"Going to apologize, sweetheart?" Ron joked at Hermione who hung an arm around his waist.

"Not quite. You wouldn't have done if I hadn't pushed you in the first place," she said cheekily. Ron tightened his arm and brought it up to her neck, pulling her into loose head lock. "Hey!" she exclaimed, slapping a hand to his chest.

Harry opened the door and they went inside, he had to let go of Hermione at the doorstep and she walked in before him. Ron smacked a hand on her bum as she walked in and she shot him a dirty look over her shoulder which he responded to with a snort of laughter.

Ginny arrived shortly after Ron, Hermione, and Harry had all gotten cleaned up and presentable and mum and dad had been along not long after that. Their Floo was bound to see more action today than it had or ever would again. The first of their party guests was two hours ahead of the party.

Luna stepped out of the Floo looking utterly faraway and perfectly normal - normal for Luna. "Oh, hello everyone! Harry, happy birthday. I brought you a Jibly Pod. It is good luck to eat one on your birthday you know. . . And a gift. Where - "

"Oh, thanks Luna!" Harry cut her off. Ron noticed Harry didn't sound particularly glad to have to accept whatever in Merlin's name was a Jibly Pod. Luna handed Harry a quivering potted plant.

"Luna? What is it?" Harry asked, turning the pot around in his hands.

"Dirigible Plum. They produce fruit their second year and that one is probably a year old so for your birthday next year, I imagine it will look nice. You should plant it before it gets too large though so -"

"Thanks Luna, really," Harry shifted the plant to one arm and side-hugged Luna. Ron heard Ginny and then Hermione laugh from the next room over and grinned in reflex at the sound.

A couple hours later, Hagrid, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Pavarti and Padma, George, Bill and Fleur, and Percy and his new girlfriend had all showed up to their house and voices mingled loudly over Blishen's Firewhisky, wine, and beer. Percy had been careful to check in fairly frequently with the family since they'd finished the Reviewing. His new girlfriend was some kind of mousy looking girl with thin brown hair, Audrey Something.

"Hiya Harry, think you might want to open this sooner rather than later," Seamus thrust a package into Harry's hands. Harry grinned at him and unwrapped it and pulled out what looked like a dead old red stocking.

"It's - it's a sock, Seamus," said Harry looking bewildered.

Seamus laughed. "s'what's in the sock, Harry."

Harry reached his hand in and pulled out a full bottle of Ogden's . "Thanks Seamus, but why - "

"The sock? Yeah, had it wrapped in that alone but Dean said that was bad form so . . . " he shrugged and grinned at them.

"Yeah, couldn't show up with Seamus looking like he'd robbed a bum," Dean laughed. Ron noticed a few other people had gone to pick up their gifts from miscellaneous spots throughout the house and he made eye contact with Hermione who nodded at him and slipped wordlessly out of the room.

Harry opened a gift from Neville that was a picture in a silver frame of Harry, Neville, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and - to Ginny's visible great annoyance - Cho from one of the DA lessons around Christmas in fifth year. Hermione and Ron were standing as far away from each other in the picture as possible with Hermione on the far right and Ron on the far left. Everyone in the picture looked content as they turned to smile at each other and jostled around before turning back to the person that had taken the picture. Neville didn't have to explain that Colin had taken the picture for Ron to know he had.

Harry then opened a gift from Hagrid: rock cakes and a 'dreamcatcher' he said he'd made himself. Several of Buckbeak's feathers hung from the leather pieces. Bill and Fleur had brought Harry a enchanted jar of sand from Shell Cottage, you could open it and hear and smell the ocean as many times as you wanted, any time you wanted. Mum and dad had brought an enormous cake so there was that as well. Ron watched Hermione slide back into the room, levitating their gift in front of herself. Dean had gotten Harry a yearlong subscription to Quidditch Weekly and as luck would have it a flying Victor Krum zoomed around on the front cover. Ron frowned at it momentarily before remembering Hermione's shaky declaration from a couple months before, _"I've never done this - any of this - before," _he smirked down at the cover smugly.

George had brought a basket of the newest Weasleys' Wizarding Weezes products which Ron noticed Harry set down very gently on the floor before embracing George. Padma and Parvarti had given him a box of candies from Honeydukes which they said had just reopened in June. Ron eyed one of the many Chocolate Frogs longingly and Harry caught him staring.

"Have at it Ron, never asked permission before," Harry said, tossing him one of the angular blue containers. A few people in the room chuckled, Hermione's light laugh was included. Ron felt his face heat up before he shrugged, deciding a sweet was a sweet and carefully opened the package so the frog didn't jump away. After he'd made quick work of the chocolate, Ron turned over the card and almost gasped.

There in the middle of the blue pentagon card, _Ronald Weasley_ and his face looking back at him, looking valiant and self assured -

"Ron? Our gift now?" Hermione asked, breaking him out of his consideration of his own image where so many great witches and wizards had been featured before. Ron found himself grinning as he nodded and dropped his hand to his side, still holding his own card.

He and Hermione had talked at length about what they should get for Harry. Somehow this birthday seemed more important than his 17th, Hermione had decided and Ron agreed. They both knew - and they were sure Harry knew as well - how grateful they should all be that Harry, any of them really, got to celebrate any more birthdays at all. Hermione had brainstormed at length about what they could memorialize from the last year that Harry would want and she had landed on the idea of an enchanted book: a book she would spell into transcribing the notes on the gate of Harry's parents' house at Godric's Hollow. Hermione had told him how much Harry had liked the notes and graffiti on the gate so she'd researched ways to have the book record the notes. Ron had pointed out that not all the graffiti was sure to be kind and it would be a book of reminders that your parents were dead and you had to fight the darkest wizard of all time to the death. Then Ron had remembered how Harry always looked at the clock in the kitchen at the Burrow when he came to visit. Hermione loved the idea of giving Harry his own clock to keep up with everyone so they'd asked dad for help a few weeks ago. They'd found a bummy old clock dad had and altered the face to read: _Home, Work, Peril, Out, Lost, Quidditch, Travelling, The Burrow, Hogwarts. _They'd decided to cut out a few of the 'times' from the Weasley clock. Prison and Dentist didn't seem like frequently used options. Ron had to force Hermione to put 'Quidditch' on the clock. The only reason she'd ultimately agreed was that he and Harry called their exercise with the Bludger 'Quidditch' so she'd be able to use that to keep up with them as well.

Hermione moved over to Harry and put the gift on the table beside him with a loud thud. They'd gone with a table clock instead of a wall clock for Harry's gift.

Harry looked at both of them for a split second before tearing into the wrapping paper and finding the large face of the clock staring back at him. Skinny metal tines on the clock were engraved with names in Hermione's neat handwriting: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Teddy were already on it. They'd programmed Teddy's tine to refer to both their house and the Tonks' as 'home' for now. They didn't want to be presumptuous and name all the tines though so they had left ten tines of the clock unengraved so that Harry could decide which names he wanted on it.

Harry looked at Ron and grinned, "This is brilliant!" Ginny moved behind Harry to look at it and smiled at the clock.

"That's cool, you two," Ginny said, glancing up at the two of them.

"Dad helped," Ron said gesturing over at his dad who shrugged good naturedly, "a lot."

Harry grabbed Hermione in a hug and Ron saw him whisper something to her that he couldn't hear. Harry released Hermione who looked teary eyed and Ron hugged Harry in turn.

"Happy birthday, mate. Figured you could add names to the clock as you see fit, yeah?" he said, stepping back.

"Yeah, s'brilliant, truly. Thank you both so much," said Harry turning between the two of them. A awkward silence threatened to start up in the wake of the gifts ending.

"Cake, dears?" mum broke the short silence and a round of nods followed.

"Oo Harry, your Jibly first. For the luck, you know," Luna said producing a bright purple . . . thing from her pocket that was about the size of a snitch.

"Oh, um," Harry looked at Ron for help. "Um, thanks Luna." He took it from her hand, "what does it taste like, exactly?"

"Sort of like a onion, you'll like it. Whole thing at once," she encouraged. Ron decided Luna wouldn't invited to his birthday if she insisted on a Jibly. Harry bit into it like a man who knew his food had been poisoned. Luna had already turned away to help mum with cutting the cake.

"Whassit taste like?" Neville whispered.

"Like a raw onion," Harry coughed around the thing as his eyes started to water. "Gah! What did she mean 'you'll like it'. Who likes this?" Ron laughed with Neville and Hermione who had summoned a glass and filled it with water for Harry. Harry snatched the water from Hermione's hand and chugged it quickly.

"Why didn't you spit it, Harry?" Ginny asked, still struggling not to snicker at Harry's expense.

Harry refilled the water in the glass with his wand and looked at Ginny over his glass as if she'd just asked the stupidest question. "What if she had another one, Gin? Or something else? Something worse." Harry turned the glass up again and wiped a bit of moisture from the corner of his eye. "This is Luna we're talking about, she might've handed me a . . . anything!" Harry whispered quickly back, downing a third glass of water.

After the group had disbanded and cake had started being passed around, Ron remembered the card which he'd hastily shoved into this pocket when Harry had thanked him for the clock. Hermione was sitting on the arm rest of the chair Ron sat in. Everyone was gathered in the living room and spread over literally every surface in the space. The noise was deafening - like their house on Christmas deafening - so Ron had to lean over closer to Hermione.

"'Mione?"

"Hmm?" she responded with a mouth full of cake. Her tongue flicked out to dart at a fleck of icing and he felt his eyes linger there for a long second.

"Look at this," Ron regained his senses and pulled the card out of his pants pocket and was glad it wasn't rumpled and that his picture had stayed in the frame to show her. He handed it to Hermione who took it carefully, swallowing her cake.

"Ron, it's you!" She grinned at him. God, her smile was pretty. Those lips and the way her eyes lit up. . .

"Yeah," he said looking at the card, "Something isn't it?" He tried to sound humble but it was hard when he was this excited. He'd collected - hell he_ still_ collected - these cards, staring in awe at witches and wizards famous enough to be featured on them and now, now here he was: plain as day, _Ronald Weasley_.

"It's brilliant! Best one of your collection," she said, referencing the box of cards she knew he kept in his side table, and leaned to kiss him on the cheek. Ron rubbed the spot after she'd leaned back, a bit sticky with icing.

"Oi! Refrain from that, will you? We're eating," George joked from his spot sitting on the coffee table. Ron just grinned and saw Hermione blush. Then George noticed what Hermione was holding. "Who've you got?"

"Ron," she said sassily.

"Ugh! No, you tart, the card?" George asked, reaching for it and then turning it to see who it was. George's face fell slack. "Bloody hell."

"Who is it?" Bill asked from the couch.

"It's bleeding Ronald Weasley," George announced to the room, turning to stare at Ron.

"Don't curse, George!" mum scolded.

"Whoa! Lemme see!" Seamus said, scrambling up off of the rug. Ron felt like this was quickly becoming one of the proudest moments of his short existence. He suddenly remembered it was Harry's birthday as Dean and Neville started fussing over the card. He glanced at Harry but Harry was grinning and trying to get a good look at the card as well and didn't even notice Ron's concern for his feelings.

"Oh, mum," Ron said, noticing his mum crying and dabbing at her eyes with her napkin. He almost laughed at her for being so emotional but was secretly highly pleased so instead he said, "Don't cry mum, s'only a Chocolate Frog."

She just nodded and then mouthed 'so proud' at him. He felt Hermione lean her shoulder against his. She was grinning when he looked up at her perched on the arm of the chair.

After the excitement of the Chocolate Frog died down and Bill and Fleur excused themselves early, mum and dad had hugged the three of them in turn and left.

"Ja open that Ogden's Harry? I'd be willing to sample, make sure it isn't poisoned," Seamus joked and Ron saw Harry summon it from the other room into the living room. Hermione counted heads and then summoned eleven glasses for those of them that were left and Harry poured a small shot of whiskey into each of the glasses.

"Well?" Dean picked up his glass first and raised it to Harry. "To Harry."

"Harry!" everyone chorused. Padma coughed violently and Hermione had her face screwed up at the burning, bitter taste.

"Yuck!" Hermione whispered and looked down at her glass as if it had offended her in some way.

"Not poisoned then, Seamus?" Harry joked.

"Seems not," deadpanned Seamus. Hermione chuckled beside him. She'd worn a dress for Harry's party and Ron had tried not to notice how short it was, especially when she was sitting down on the arm of the chair like that. Smooth leg stretched on out from under the knit material.

Soon, but not soon enough for Ron's liking, the party had died down and Ron and Hermione had stayed in the living room to start cleaning up. Ron tried to ignore when Ginny went up the staircase to Harry's room and failed. Hermione was physically shoving wrapping paper into trash bags while Ron had started to bring all the dishes into the kitchen and pile them sloppily into the sink. Ron walked back into the living room where Hermione was on her hands and knees, evidently searching for something under the couch. The white and navy striped dress had ridden up and Hermione's white knickers were visible.

"Sure this isn't my birthday, then?" Ron cheeked. She didn't change position but cut her eyes to look up at him.

"I'm trying to get a scrap of paper, if you don't mind - "

"Oh, I don't," he crossed his arms and stood there admiring the view. She dropped her bum so the panties were out of view and sat up on her knees facing away from him and pretended to huff angrily. Ron took two big steps over to her and threw both arms around her shoulders, having to bend way over to reach down to her. She shrieked as he picked her up against himself, turning and falling so that he lay on the couch with her back on top of him.

"Ronald!" she laughed.

"_Hermione_," he teased, loosening his arms as he felt her twist around to face him.

"That's not fair! You're stronger than me," she laughed.

"'Not fair'? Waving your bum around in the air and expecting me to help you out, that's what's not fair," he brought both hands to the curve of the part of her body in question.

She grinned at him and used her toes against his shins as leverage to scoot up and kiss him softly with the lightest touch of her lips against his. The friction between them at her movement had Ron already itching to get her back into her room. She leaned up and stopped kissing him to look at something and her dress gapped down, affording him a mouthwatering view of her smooth cleavage peaking out above her white bra. He shifted his hips under her and watched her eyes widen in recognition. A bump and then a laugh came from outside the room.

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered and started shaking with laughter.

"What? What is - "

Another bump and a muffled female cry came distinctly from upstairs this time. Hermione fumbled with her arm to grab her wand from the floor beside the couch and Ron stared up at the white ceiling in disgust. "_Muffliato!_" Hermione whispered and all noises disappeared. Hermione leaned back to kiss him and he almost recoiled. All randy feelings Disapparated when your sister was shagging your best mate upstairs.

"Ron?" Hermione asked him when he didn't respond. She leaned up and he was treated to the view down her dress again. Nothing. "Ron? Don't let it bug you. It's just - they're just . . . They love each other so what does it - "

"I know," he cut her off quickly and moved to sit up, "I know. Let's just - just talk about something else." He stood up off the couch and _accioed_ the scrap of paper out from under the couch. Why hadn't Hermione done that in the first place? Ron missed the disappointed look on Hermione's face as he left the room.

Many, many long minutes later after he'd hand washed the dishes in the sink like a muggle so that he could think clearer, he walked back into the living room. Hermione was asleep on the couch stretched out with arms and legs akimbo. Ron smirked down at her and then glanced up at the clock. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Teddy were all Home. Ginny's tine was pointed at Out. Ron sighed and scooped up the girl he loved into his arms.

"Ron?" she whimpered sleepily.

"Yeah?" he maneuvered around a lamp carefully to keep from hitting her legs on it.

"Still mad?"

"Nah," he said and turned sideways to shuffle into her room with her in his arms.

"Good. I love you," she whispered. He lay her down gently in her bed and went back to close her door. He danced out of his jeans and shirt and crawled in bed from the other side in his boxers. He pulled her against himself in that perfect dress and whispered against the back of her head.

"I love you, too."


	29. Umbridge and Uther Fawe

_. . . Chapter 29_

_. . . Umbridge and Uther Fawe . . . _

* * *

Hermione turned over and found Ron asleep but shaking violently in the middle of a hot August night.

"Ron," she sat up and shook him slightly. "Ron!"

" . . .off her . . . her-mione . . . off . . . no."

"Ron!" she jolted his shoulders with her hands, moving to kneel over him. He jumped awake and swung an arm out to hit whatever he had been dreaming about. Hermione shrieked and ducked, Ron's fisted hand barely missed coming into contact with her face.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Ron scooted to sit up against the head board and threw Hermione a bit off balance and she sat back on her bum. He put both hands on his face and Hermione watched in horror as his shoulders shook violently. She moved back to her knees and crawled to him to straddle his lap.

"Ron?" she prodded gently but got no response. "Ron - " Hermione grabbed his forearms with her small hands and dragged them away from his face. He looked broken before her, with tears gathering along his lower lashes.

"'Mione, just - just give me a minute, ok?" he exhaled shakily and she nodded, still holding his arms and sitting over him. She glanced from his face to the clock beside her bed. 4:49. Ron gently took one of his arms back from Hermione's grip and wiped at his eyes. She faced him and opened her mouth to ask if he was alright.

"Ron - "

"Hermione - " he started and snapped his mouth shut when she talked.

"You first," she whispered.

Ron sighed and brought both of his large hands to grip her hips over the thin pajamas she wore.

"Hermione, I can't," he cleared his throat, "I can't. . . I don't think I can tell you what - "

She realized instantly that she'd been the subject of a nightmare. She'd wondered for a while if she was but he rarely, if ever, spoke to her about any of them.

"That's alright, Ron. We don't have to talk about it." Hermione brought a hand to his face, tracing a few of the freckles below his eye with her head tilted to the side, considering his strong, serious face. She traced the side of his face with her hand, moving along the stubble on his jaw and coming to rest on his neck. His pulse was racing under her fingers. Brown and blue met and Hermione saw a flicker of pain in his face as he looked at her before his eyes jumped to her mouth and in a flash his lips were roughly on hers. Both his arms wrapped fully around her waist, anchoring her to him as tightly as he could as he kissed her with a fathomless desperation. With a surprised sound, Hermione returned his enthusiasm and brought both hands up to rest against his stubbly cheeks.

Ron nudged her cheek up with his nose and Hermione lifted her chin in response. His lips found her neck and he laid soft kisses down the column of her neck, brushing gently over the horizontal scar there. She moaned lightly in the dark of the room and felt Ron tighten his arms around her. Every inch of their chests pressed fully against each other with only her shirt as a barrier. He breathed out against her neck and she felt him bury his face in her shoulder and press his forehead into the dip between her neck and shoulder.

"Hermione?" he whispered and she felt his breath through her thin shirt on her breast and had to bite down on her lip to keep from exhaling with want. She leaned her cheek against his soft ginger hair in response to her name. "I can't ever lose you," he muttered so softly that she almost missed it.

"You don't ever have to, you know," she sighed out and felt her heart rate speed up painfully. They'd never gotten this close to hinting at the idea of marriage before.

"God, I hope not," he nuzzled her shoulder before leaned back to look at her. Ron opened his mouth to say something and Hermione's lungs seemed to get instantly more shallow. "I love you. And Hermione," she held her breath, "I will for as long as you will let me." He put both arms on her shoulders and pushed her backwards, climbing over her and preoccupying her lips before she could tell him she wanted him forever.

Ron had pushed her backwards on her comforter and covered her body quickly with his own, grinding himself between her legs. She gasped at how ready he suddenly was and opened her lips for him to kiss her more deeply. Her body arched up, pressing and offering itself up to Ron of its own accord. One of his strong hands wound in her wild, sleep-tangled hair, pressing her harder to his lips and plunging his tongue into her mouth. Chills shot down her spine as evidence of his desire rubbed against her again. She exhaled, quivering against his soft lips. Suddenly she knew she needed more, needed to be closer to him and she reached for the elastic of his boxers. He hit her hand away and she broke off their kiss to look at him.

"I want to do -," he broke off and she could see him redden in the moonlight. "I want to, for you," he said and brought a hand down to tied bow of her pajama shorts and his intention was clear. She was at once embarrassed, scared, excited, and turned on all in the same instant. After their first few fumbling attempts, she and Ron had grown into a fairly comfortable physical relationship. They'd seen each other naked a few times in darkened rooms, nurtured their ability to please each other by touch alone. One time he'd kissed down her scar from Dolohov but she'd been too embarrassed to let him go down farther and had pulled him back up. That'd been almost a month ago and he'd never tried it again. She knew he was letting her control the pace of it all but she always felt he'd find her too wanton or sluttish when she thought about being the one to make the moves to further things between them. She quaked under him from a heady mix of nerves and desire as he pulled off her shorts, leaving her in her tank and knickers. Hermione could tell he was undressing her slowly to give her time to say no. She bit her lip to keep from doing so.

The ardent gaze pouring from his eyes overwhelmed every thought that skittered across her mind and Hermione bowed up to meet his lips, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of Ron's hands on her body pulling her closer to him. His fingers dragged down her arms. His right hand was slightly rougher than his left on her skin, Hermione knew instantly it was from using his wand, practicing spells for work. He released her lips and she felt his hands work under the thin straps of her tank, pulling them down her arms. She opened her eyes as he dragged her now-strapless top down. Ron smirked a tiny bit as he trailed his hands and her top and knickers down and off. Hermione struggled not to feel ashamed and not to cover herself from his eyes as he tossed the flimsy fabric to the side and nudged her knees apart with his hands. Her face flamed as she saw him dip his head to kiss up her thigh, she gasped when she felt his mouth on her most intimate parts.

Minutes later when Hermione had finally quit trying to snap her legs together in embarrassed nervousness she gave in to the strange and wonderful sensations. She shook apart violently, arching against Ron and crying out disjointedly in the predawn darkness. Ron caressed her thighs briefly before raising his face, dragging his hand across his mouth and smirking. She forgot to be ashamed and grinned at him before pulling his mouth to hers. His body pressed down on hers and she felt the firm bulge on her inner leg through his thin boxers. She reached down to him and relished every noise he made because of her. She pressed on his chest and he let her push him onto his back and she felt her heart resume racing ahead of her and her cheeks going bright red as she thought about what she was about to do. She leaned down and let her hair trail along his stomach. Ron gasped and Hermione felt a surge of lusty power. She leaned down and returned the favor she had just received.

After their revealing exploration of each other that morning, Hermione and Ron reluctantly parted in the lift with an extra squeeze of their hands. Odette was talking to a woman standing just outside the lift, speaking to a tan skinned man that Hermione didn't recognize. Odette motioned her over when Hermione's eyes met Odette's brown pools.

" - and this is my co-worker, Hermione Granger," Odette said, indicating Hermione.

She quickly extended her arm at the stranger who took it quickly. His robes were white with strange embroidery and stitching.

"Rivlin Qardish," he took her hand and shook it, smiling congenially. He had a thick, lilting accent.

"Mr. Qardish is visiting from the Bangladesh Ministry. He works there in their equivalent of our department. Mr. Qardish was telling me about his work tracking the sea movements of Makara," Odette said, filling in blanks of information. She turned to smile stiffly at Hermione and gritted her next words through her teeth, "Grayson is running a bit behind today."

Hermione lifted her eyebrows and was about to propose giving Grayson a tour when Conway stepped off the next elevator.

"Odette, Conway could give Mr. Qardish a tour of the Department if Mr. Qardish was interested - " Hermione offered quickly. Odette grinned back.

"Oh yes, very much," Qardish said. Hermione walked off and heard Odette and Conway start discussing the tour. Served Conway right for always flirting and wasting her time. She smirked the rest of the way to her desk.

Post came to her desk, she'd finally given in and subscribed to the _Daily Prophet_ sometime in early July_, _a note from Grayson, and a note from Erasmus dropped onto her desk. Erasmus was telling her to meet him outside at their back gate at seven o'clock. She turned the note over in her hand, she looked for any sign that something was wrong but his handwriting didn't reveal anything else. He'd usually just walked to the empty lot beside their house and paced around the edge of their wards around the backyard until she came out. Harry had tried to go out one time the week after his birthday and forgot to remove the new Caterwauling Charm before stepping through their wards, setting it and Erasmus off instantly. Erasmus had demanded Harry never come out to speak again if he couldn't manage to get the 'stealth' part of his Auror training under control.

Grayson's note told her that she and Odette needed to finish their current revision of the Goblin rights bill for him to look over by next Tuesday. LaFoe had evidently slated it to appear before the Wizengamot for their vote on September 1st. The bill had become a mountainous task for Hermione and Odette. They'd had to request a third desk to keep all the reference materials they constantly needed out on. Her palms started sweating when she counted it all down. 17 more days to go. Her throat seemed to drop down into her stomach and she reached for the _Daily Prophet_ to scan it and organize her thoughts.

Page one declared the near completion of the restoration of Hogwarts. Page two had a small article on Dawlish. He'd been convicted and sentenced to 5 years in Azkaban. Page three featured a large article about the Ministry's on-going efforts to redeem itself for the Muggle-born Registration Commission. A picture of Dolores Umbridge looked out of the page haughtily, angry almost. Hermione scanned the article for key words and saw 'collecting' , 'against', 'crimes', and 'Dolores Umbridge' dangerously close to one another and slowed down.

_The Ministry of Magic continues its internal mission to continue collecting evidence against members of the Ministry that committed crimes against Muggle-borns under the guise of fulfilling requirements of the Muggle-born Registration Commission under Dolores Umbridge._

Hermione looked down at the page and smiled grimly. Finally. Surely somewhere along the line they'd find that Umbridge herself had falsified court records and lied in court proceedings. Perhaps they could help testify or something against her. . . It made her suddenly wonder about Reg and Mary Cattermole. Had they gotten out? Their kids? She didn't remember ever hearing anyone mention them after their trip into the Ministry last fall.

"Nice one, Hermione. Real classy," Conway muttered as he approached her desk. She turned to him and grinned.

"You're always over here at my desk, imposing on my precious time. I never have had the pleasure of coming to your desk with the sole purpose of wasting your time - "

"Plus, you're a git," Odette finished, teasing.

"Tosser," he narrowed his eyes at Odette and then Hermione. "Tossers," he amended, "plural," and turned on his heel and walked off.

Odette pulled her hair up into a bun and Hermione twisted hers out of the way in a messy clump and stuffed her wand through it. They attacked the bill for the rest of the day with an exhausting, ferocious determination.

Odette cut out of work a few minutes early that afternoon and Hermione grabbed the wand holding her hair up as the chime on a clock nearby struck five. She shook and tossed her curls out and stretched her arms toward the ceiling, rocking back and forth on her feet to elongate her stiff arms and legs.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, if I knew this is what I was missing when you're working down here every day, I'd be in your department."

Hermione smiled and turned to find Ron and Harry both standing a few feet behind her. Ron looked appreciative of the view. Harry was looking up at Ron with a look that clearly said he did not feel appreciative in the slightest of Ron's comment.

"Hi," she leaned up to give Ron a quick peck. The morning came rushing back and she dropped back down from her tip toes and cleared her throat. "Hey, Harry," she said and he smiled at her. "Let me just grab my cloak and purse and we'll go."

She turned and grabbed the newspaper and Erasmus's note off of her desk and started to leave.

"Um, Hermione?" Ron asked, surveying the cluster of three desks that were swimming in files and papers. "Shouldn't you - "

"Oh, no. Been like this for days," she said looking at it. The heaps and stacks made her pulse quicken and made her feel claustrophobic . "It's in the final stages though," she said as Ron took the note from her and read it. "So after that, I'm looking forward to taking all that clutter and setting it on fire."

They piled into the full lift and a man with a brutally strong jaw and close cropped black hair that was receding from his hairline stepped forward to them, gently nudging a young wizard out of his way.

"Potter, Weasley," the man started and waited for them to turn. "We've just been at Magical Transportation, we've got a six o'clock Portkey to a section of Victoria where Ryth Ware's - you know that Death Eater that attacked the Hash Family: Ridley, his wife Wisteria, and their three girls - well that's where his parents live. Harding and Parnell said you two could come and gain some integration experience under myself and Silvestri, alright?" The man who Hermione knew now was an Auror looked from Harry and Ron awaiting their answer.

"Sure," Harry answered.

"Yeah, absolutely," Ron said quickly, "six o'clock?" She noticed a resigned note in Ron's voice.

"Yeah, six. Won't be any big hoopla. We're pretty sure he's not around but we want to ask his parents a few question. Just standard stuff," the Auror said, stepping back as Harry and Ron nodded and the lift pitched to a stop.

The three of them reached the Floo as Hermione turned over the Auror's - Ron whispered that it was Russell - words. 'Pretty sure he's not around' rattled around horribly in her brain. They could be walking into a Death Eater's house. A Death Eater who had five confirmed deaths. She felt a hard beat of her heart as Ron cupped an arm under her elbow to guide her into the hearth and the three of them sped off in a flash of green back to their house.

"We should name it something other than our address," Harry pointed out as they siphoned ash off of their robes.

"I know, I hate having to whisper it to try to keep other people from hearing us," Ron said, unbuttoning his robes to reveal his strong body underneath an almost too-small white undershirt. Hermione shook her head to clear her worries from Auror Russell's words and her hungry assessment of Ron's chest under that shirt.

"The Lair?" Harry offered and then muttered, "no, we've tried that before haven't we. . . um . . . Yellow house?"

"'Yellow house'? 'Yellow House' is horrible, mate," Ron said, dropping into one of the arm chairs sloppily. Hermione smiled down at him lopsidedly, sliding out of her robes and revealing her patterned skirt and blue top. Ron eyed her legs and waggled his eyebrows at her ridiculously as she lay down on the couch. Harry collapsed to lay on the rug and chuckled.

"Well, present some options then," Harry said, staring up at the ceiling.

"Um, right," Ron said, hesitating. "What about that Fort Solitude-thingi?'

Hermione laughed this time. "We cannot name it after Superman's lair. And before you suggest it Harry, I'm ruling out Batcave."

"Wasn't gonna," he said and turned to look up at her around the edge of the coffee table. "Didn't care for Batman as much."

"Really?" That surprised her. She had actually always rather admired Batman before she'd gotten her Hogwarts letter because he didn't have strange magical power that couldn't be explained. She liked him and Ironman because they created their powers from real things. They had realistic powers and talents. Of course, when she'd found out she was a witch she'd reevaluated superheroes in their entirety. The entire world got a bit smaller and at the same time more mysterious when you had powers of your own. "Alright, then. . . X-Mansion?" They had magical powers that they had no control over . . .

"What in all of hell are you two talking about?" Ron asked them both.

"Muggle comic books? Remember we told you about Superman?" Harry said, tilting his head to look back. "Maybe we should leave the Muggle references alone, Hermione."

"Alright, then what is a place we always feel safe in?" Hermione said, hoping to insight brainstorming. Ron and Harry stayed silent and she shifted to lay on her side. "Well?"

"Home?" Harry said and then frowned immediately, realizing the problem with that. Too generic, it could get guessed too easily.

"The pitch?" Ron said. It was slightly better than home but she scowled at him.

"I'm not naming it something like 'the pitch'. If you call it 'the pitch' then I'll call it 'The Library' and we'll just be done with that." She flung herself to lay on her back again and look up at the ceiling.

"You might be onto something there," Harry said, sitting up. "Who would name their house after another type of place? Could we alter our Floo registration to say 'The Library'?"

"What? No - somebody could guess that, couldn't they?" Hermione asked, sitting up. "I'm always in it at Hogwarts, they could guess it too easily."

Harry snapped his fingers and grinned. "The Forbidden Forest." He paused for effect and looked at both of them in turn. "Seriously, who in their right mind would ever guess it?"

"But that's dreadful dull, maybe . . . "

"What about Oz?" Hermione suddenly thought, "Yellow brick house? Yellow brick road? Magical Wizard and a group of rag-tag, misfit friends?"

"The Oz?" Harry asked, she could tell he didn't hate it.

"No just Oz. Is that too weird? I've always liked that movie."

"I could do that then," Ron agreed and Hermione heard him smiling as he said it.

"Alright, fine," she exhaled. "I'll turn in the change in name from our address to 'Oz' tomorrow. It's better than any of our other options, I guess. I'll owl everyone that already knows it anyway. I guess we should've done that before, then?"

They both hummed their agreement. She glanced at the clock - Harry's birthday clock. Ron, Hermione, Harry, Neville, Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Teddy were home. Ginny, Molly, and Arthur were at the Burrow. Hagrid was at Hogwarts. George was at work. They still had two tines they were waiting to name. Harry hadn't suggested any additional names yet and it wasn't really Hermione or Ron's place. It was good to know everyone was safe. She hoped the clock never had to use 'Peril' to let them know where one of their loved ones was. Then she looked up at the clock that simply told the time and groaned as she pushed herself up off of the couch to go into the kitchen to make dinner.

Seven o'clock came around in the middle of their quickly thrown together dinner and Hermione pushed her chair back, strode out the back door, canceled the Caterwauling Charm, and walked through the wards and out to meet Erasmus. A split second later Erasmus was turning toward her out from behind some vegetation in the hot August evening.

"Hermione," he moved toward her and nodded his greeting. "Good to see you."

"And you as well. Got your note," she said, taking in his appearance. His hair was tucked behind his ear and the burn on his face caught the evening light strangely. The scar was the most prominent thing about him suddenly. Dangerous. Powerful. Harsh.

"Right, had to make sure it was you instead of one of those other two. Sometimes they're a bit slower than you, dear," he finished chuckling once at his insult of Harry and Ron. His comment ruffled her feathers but she swallowed her feelings and inclined her head at him. "Right. Ok," he pulled out a paper from the pockets of his robes and unfolded it, handing her a picture of a man. The man had a shaved head and deeply pitted eyes that sunk into his face enough to make him look corpse-like.

"Who is this?" she asked, looking from the frightening picture to Erasmus who had fixed his mouth into a dour line.

"That is Uther Fawe. He's been sighted around here - " Erasmus looked suspiciously around the empty lot. "And I'm worried he might come around you three if he finds that you're here. So try to keep the trips to the store and into town to a minimum. Maybe even get someone else to go for you three instead - you're all too recognizable." Erasmus was frowning down at her.

"He's really around here?" she felt like the darkness around them had grown sinister in the moments they'd been talking.

"Unfortunately, yes and he's, Hermione," she looked up to meet his serious face, "He's dangerous, unstable. Known for a particular brutality toward women if you understand my meaning."

"Oh. _Oh._" She understood, understood that if Erasmus was worried that they needed to be. "So get someone else to run around this area if that's possible, go in groups if that's not?"

He nodded at her and she made to hand him the picture back. "No, no, you keep that, Hermione, and do not come outside for any one that you don't know. Remember how Travers had that Polyjuice? Well we never discovered who those other cups belonged to, alright, so you could see a kid or an old lady. . . just - just keep a good eye out, yeah? Only come outside for me or someone you're sure that you know?"

"Alright, we will." Her nerves were jangling. She yanked on her sleeve to calm down. It was futile the sleeve was a short sleeve. Erasmus's eyes were drawn to her movement and he frowned at the scar carved on her forearm. She flinched as his eyes turned back up to hers and she read curiosity and something like pity there.

"Ok, good. We'll I've got my eyes on your place so be wary not nervous, yeah?" he said, turning away from her.

"Alright. Good night."

"Good night," Erasmus spoke as he walked away from her. He didn't turn around as he said, "and tell those two inside, ok?"

She told him she would.


	30. Wares and the Caterwauling Charm

_. . . Chapter 30_

_. . . Wares and the Caterwauling Charm . . . _

* * *

Ron and Harry walked into the Department of Magical Transportation to meet Russell and Silvestri. Ron was mildly surprised to see another guy about their age there standing with Silvestri. They gathered wordlessly, already briefed, around a beat up picture frame with a photo of two kids in Hogwarts uniforms that he didn't recognize. When all hands had a grip on the frame they sped into a twisting nothingness before emerging with a pop on a rainy, deserted street.

"Right," Russell said, putting away the frame in his robes and casting a wordless imperious charm. "In we go," he started up the walk of a red brick house and they followed purposefully along behind him. Knuckles rapped against the black paint of the door.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ware?" Russell said brightly. It rang false in Ron's ears.

A shuffling behind the door meant someone had heard.

"Whadd'you want?" a gruff old man's voice drifted through the door.

"Just to ask a few questions," Russell sounded more like himself as he spoke. Ron noticed Harry check behind them to make sure they were still in the clear. Hermione's words from last night echoed in his head, _"Don't let your guard down, always be aware of what's behind you. Erasmus said this Uther Fawe was brutal, dangerous. We can't go alone into town, okay?" _ He could tell there was more that she had meant when she had said the word 'brutal'. Ron made a mental note to look him up back at the department that afternoon.

"D'you know what bloody time this is?" the voice asked sharply.

"Yes, sir, we know you go to work at seven o'clock so we had to be here early to speak to you and not disrupt your day," Russell explained firmly and then paused for a moment before speaking again, "We have a warrant, Mr. Ware. We need you to let us in."

A couple clicks and the door was flung open, revealing a wizard not much older than dad. Weird. His voice made him sound so much older than his dad. "Make it quick," he told them inhospitably before turning and leading them through the house. Once-expensive fabric wallpaper peeled away from the wall in layers, looking like a multicolored jumble of splotchy paint.

"Lyra, check upstairs. Laney, go with," Russell commanded quietly. Lyra? That was Silvestri's first name, then. He realized he'd never heard it before. "Weasley, Potter?"

They followed him wordlessly into the kitchen behind Ware.

"S'pose this is about Ryth then? What's he done now to bring you snooping?" the man asked, pouring himself a cup of tea and leaning against the old farmhouse-style sink, frowning at them. Ron glanced around the room. Dingy and stained countertops that were probably once nice. The table in the middle of the room was surrounded with mismatched chairs. Somehow it didn't pull it off like the one at the Burrow.

"He's wanted for the murders of several people," Russell explained. The man's expression didn't change.

"People or Mudbloods?" The man asked, smirking as he sipped his tea. Ron clenched his fist around his wand. Hearing that word shot through him now like a physical pain. Every time he heard 'Mudblood', he saw Bellatrix leaning over Hermione while she screamed.

"Ridley Hash was Muggle-born, yes," Russell replied stiffly.

"Well, that's settled then. Ministry pretty much gave everyone the go ahead for that, din' they?" Ware noisily slurped his tea. "Now the Ministry changed their tune and 'spects everyone to turn themself in? Can't go after people when your people s'the ones that told them to do in the first place. Should be all the Mudbloods gone now, f'you ask me."

"Now that's not how it went and you know it, Mr. Ware. Anyway, I'm not interested in your assesment of the Ministry," Russell's face had gained an angry edge emphasized by his square jaw. "Do you know where your son is?"

"I do not," the man slammed his teacup against his saucer with a harsh clink, "And f'I did, I wouldn't be telling you. S'just cleaning up the mud is all. Glad somebody is willing to do what the Ministry ain't got the balls to do."

Silvestri and Laney came back in the room with who Ron assumed was Mrs. Ware. "He's not here," Silvestri said by way of explanation.

"'course he ain't here. Your lot knows where _here_ is," Mr. Ware laughed at them, setting his teacup down and running a hand through his khaki colored hair that was streaked with grey. "You got what you wanted, get out." His laugh transformed into a scowl.

"Do you know of anywhere he might be? Any place he visits?" Russell asked but Ron felt like he was pushing his luck as Mr. Ware's scowl deepened. "Only reason we ask is because we might have to come back here sometime and talk to you and maybe if you tell us something, we wouldn't have to come again soon."

Mr. Ware surveyed the group and Ron noticed his dark brown eyes widen with realization when they met Harry's person. "My guess is he'll be somewhere far off," Mr. Ware said suddenly with his eyes glued to Harry. "Somewhere where children who stick their nose into the business of the Dark Lord's remaining faithful won't go snooping - "

"Are you confessing to being faithful to You-Know-Who? May we see your arm?" Russell cut across him. They'd been told to arrest people with the Dark Mark first and question them later at the Ministry once they'd been secured. The only people Ron knew of who weren't being considered guilty just by the mark alone were the two Malfoy men who remained under investigation. The thought of the Malfoy family made his stomach churn, remembering Draco winding and unwinding string around his hand while Hermione writhed on the ground.

The man rolled up his sleeve. Clean, pale skin. "Now, if you would, kindly get the fuck out of my house," he hissed out at them.

Russell nodded and Silvestri led them back out the way they came.

"Did you do the signature trace?" Russell whispered to ask Laney.

"Yes," he breathed back. "Hasn't done magic here. Did the trace upstairs and down just to be on the safe side." Laney said back as they stepped out into the rain which had started to pound the asphalt. Rain drenched his hair and he looked down at Harry who looked sullen as they walked behind Silvestri.

"Alright, mate?" Ron said under his breath.

"Yeah, didn't like that bit about him implying that Ware is hiding out because of me," a pause, "like we won't be able to get him because of me. "

"First of all it's because of _us - _all the people trying to catch him - and it's not that we won't be able to get him. He's doing what criminals do, Harry. Hiding," Ron said and they slowed to stop beside Silvestri and Russell as they all made to grab the frame again.

"Well, that wasn't exactly a normal interrogation. Typically they aren't so hostile. All the same," Russell motioned them forward so they could walk into one of the open lifts back at the Ministry, "we got you all out in the field for a bit. Now's the fun part. You three - Laney, Weasley, Potter - are writing the report and I'll check it over for errors. Enjoy," he stepped out first as the elevator declared they were at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Ron glanced down at his watch. Five minutes until seven o'clock. Hermione wouldn't even be here yet. He wondered if she was still in bed, imagined her in bed and tangled in the sheets. Laney spoke up breaking his highly enjoyable daydream, he sighed and swallowed thickly.

"I'm at Russell's desk, want to gather there and work on it?" Laney's voice was eerily similar to Dean's. It was weird hearing something sound so similar from a person that looked so different. He was taller than Harry by a few inches, thick chestnut hair - darker than Hermione's by loads - was combed neatly over his forehead.

"Sure," Harry nodded and he and Ron followed Laney to Russell's desk.

"You a Junior Auror, then?" asked Ron.

"Oh, no just in training. We rotate in and out of the office sometimes to get field experience or office experience or whatever. Whatever they tell us to do." Ron eyed him as he spoke. So they were pretty much at the same level, then. He didn't know what to say after his curiosity was sated so the three gathered their chairs and the appropriate papers and started work.

They finished the report and handed it to Russell at eleven o'clock. Russell excused them for an early lunch and Ron reluctantly invited Laney along. Awkward bloke but might as well do to get to know someone you'd have to work with and trust in the field one day. They went down by Hermione's floor to see if she wanted to go with them. She was facing away from them when they got to her desk, her wand was holding her curls pinned at the back of her head.

"Oi, Hermione. Visitors," Odette said, grinning and standing to look at them. Ron had only met her on a few occasions and she seemed alright. Her French accent was almost nonexistent compared to Fleur's. It made him wonder if they were from very different parts of France or if Fleur didn't try to overcome hers very hard.

Hermione turned to them and treated them to a smile. She had an adorable, small smudge of ink on one cheek. Ron grinned at her. "Early lunch?"

"Sure!" she noticed Laney beside him and extended her hand before looking down at it. Every fingertip sported blue or black ink stains. She blushed and looked at Laney. "I'd shake your hand but, well - I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione pulled out her wand and siphoned the ink off of her fingertips one by one.

"Gideon Laney, call me Laney," Laney said and looked Hermione over. Ron narrowed his eyes at his new acquaintance suspiciously.

"Hermione," she invited him to use her first name and then turned to Odette, "You want to come?"

"Sure but Conway wanted to go so I'll go grab him," Odette said, turning and walking quickly down the corridor.

"So, how'd it go?" Hermione asked the three of them, loosening her curls with her now-clean fingers. She had a stain on her face. Ron stepped forward and licked a finger, bringing it to Hermione's face in a gesture that made him feel horribly like his mum. He colored slightly and wiped the small smudge off of her small face with his finger while Harry talked.

"Good, I guess," Harry said and then shrugged. "Well, alright, I guess. Not much to really report. He wasn't there and we got nothing from his parents."

"Nothing except knowledge of his parents hatred of Mudbloods and undying devotion to blood purity, evidently," Laney said, smirking and crossing his arms over his chest. A flicker flew across Hermione's face. Ron saw her arm twitch slightly at her side.

"Um, well, maybe we'll find him the next time," Harry cut across before Laney could say anything else. How dare he use that word so flippantly.

"Yeah," Hermione said and nodded at them. She looked up at him for a moment and smiled. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in the wake of her anticipated reaction to Laney's words.

"So what do you do, Hermione?" Laney asked, looking around her with an obvious interest in talking to her more. Slick git.

"Goblin Liaison office," she explained waving her hand at the desks, "Goblin rights work and -"

"Got him! Ready?" Odette barged in walking with the tall bloke.

"Ready," Hermione said, letting Odette lead them to the lifts as she walked beside Ron. "Hated to wake up without you there," she whispered and he felt her lean into him slightly.

"Hated to leave you there all beautiful and asleep," he said quietly back. She grinned up at him and he couldn't help but smile back. The group shuffled into the lift and decided on a Italian place in Diagon Alley that just opened up, _Palladio's_. They sat down at a table in the nearly emptied restaurant and ate and talked while the lunch crowd shuffled in around noon. Laney had kept an eye on Hermione's movements but hadn't talked to her much at lunch. Still a git. Conway, Odette, and Hermione shared easy laughter and Ron felt a little bit like he and Harry couldn't keep up with their talk. Then he remembered how Hermione said she and Odette and Conway ate lunch together most days either in the office or out. Sinking feelings rushed up to the front of Ron's mind: they were apart for so much time during the days that Hermione had made these friends - new friends - that he knew very little about. It wasn't like in school where they shared classes and friends. These were _her_ friends. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

Back at the office, Russell had seemed fairly pleased with their work and had sent Harry and Ron back to Parnell and Harding respectively.

"Heard you hopped a Portkey at the ass-crack of dawn," Harding said, looking up when Ron sat down. He had maps spread out with dots decorating the page.

"Yeah, to Victoria to see Ryth Ware's parents," Ron explained as he leaned over to look at the map.

"Lovely couple they are," Harding chortled and noticed Ron's gaze. "Tracking Greyback." He slid the map over toward Ron a bit. "This has all known and confirmed sightings in red, reported but unconfirmed in black, deaths in green, non fatal attacks in purple, and suspected but unproven attacks in white."

The map was of Cornwall, Devon, Somerset and Dorset. That was bloody close to home. Ron traced a finger over Ottery St. Catchpole. No dots were present there, thank Merlin. Ottery St. Mary, however, had a white dot. Ron tapped it with his finger.

"What's this about?" he asked Harding, feeling his chest constrict.

"Oh, we don't know it was him but we found a report by the Muggle police there about a wild animal attack of a little girl, Astrid Fergueson," Harding broke off to grimace. "Three years old, absolutely inconceivable." Ron's breath caught. Harding's little girl was three.

"We don't know that it's him?" Ron stared at that white dot, only a few miles from their house, from the Burrow.

"No." Harding sighed, looming over a cluster of green dots in Cornwall. "We went out there when the report seemed suspicious but we're thinking that he attacked her without using his wand. No trace popped up but we managed to peek at the autopsy - we've got some people who are really good with Stealth Extraction Missions - and everything fits."

Ron nodded and bit the inside of his mouth. "Right," he breathed. He realized he'd interrupted Harding when he'd walked up. "You're adding to the map?"

"No, fortunately, I'm not. I'm trying to work out a pattern. Any kind of pattern and it just - just won't fit anything. He's completely random. Completely out of control it seems. I've even checked this against the movements of a few other Death Eaters we're still tracking and none of this shit lines up. I'm thinking that he's flying solo, pillaging as he goes." Harding's words flew out in an exhausted tirade. He looked tired and Ron felt his own shoulders sag. Harding looked up at him. "When we nail this guy, I'll sleep so much better."

Ron nodded in full understanding. Nightmares surrounding Hermione always featured Greyback or Bellatrix or both. Greyback had taken the lead role in recent weeks. The nightmare from just a few mornings before sprung to mind. He'd been in Hermione's memory like in the Pensieve but this time instead of Ron and Harry bursting up the stairs, Greyback had dragged Hermione into a corner of the room. Ron tried to reach him, to pull him off of her but every attempt had his hand going straight through the asshole's body, useless in the memory-style dream, as he tore away Hermione's clothes. Ron shook his head to keep himself from remembering the rest of that dream. He'd asked Harry for Dreamless Sleep - their last vial - last night so that he had a normal night's rest. Harry had been reluctant to hand it over and Ron had realized Harry was taking Dreamless Sleep himself, frequently. Harry made him promise not to tell Hermione. They'd agreed and Harry was ordering more vials - today, hopefully.

"Alright, enough of my moping," Harding sat up straighter. "You study and I'll see if I can dredge us up a lead on this bastard," Harding folded the map up and walked away from the desk. Ron glanced over at Harry and Parnell who were standing and talking. Harry noticed his gaze and jogged over.

"Raid, going with Parnell to Dolohov's old house. Think it might be a hide out for some people now," Harry explained quickly.

"Be careful, mate," Ron said seriously. Harry nodded and Ron watched him leave the floor with a small group. Bloody hell, they had not chosen a field for the faint of heart. He wondered fleetingly if it would be this dramatic all the time. After reading for a few minutes, Ron remembered that he'd wanted to check into Uther Fawe. Hermione's hesitation when they'd talked about Erasmus' warning had set off red flags for him and with the way she held things back - or tried to, he thought of the memory they'd seen without her consent - he was worried it was something important. Ron pushed his chair back and walked over to the large wall with pictures and names of the most wanted. He scanned it and found the picture that matched the one that Hermione had brought inside.

_Uther Fawe: Death Eater_

Ron got closer to read the smaller text of the quick summary of his crimes below his name.

_Wanted for: murder of three muggle women, seven Muggle-borns: five women, two men, rape of four Muggle-born women. Highly Dangerous. Wanted Dead or Alive. _

He closed his eyes for a minute and exhaled, jerking his head back to aim his face up at the ceiling. Erasmus had told her he was a rapist of Muggle-borns, he'd bet his life on it. Or at least Erasmus had told Hermione that Fawe was highly dangerous with respect to women. And he'd been spotted nearby. Holy hell. Greyback was a town away. Fawe was practically in their neighborhood. If he hadn't cast the wards and charms himself with Harry and Hermione he would have decided to move. Maybe - a horrible thought bloomed in his mind - maybe Hermione would be safer if she did move. Maybe he and Harry could stay, pretty much as bait and she could leave and go somewhere safer. He shook his head, she'd kill him for even thinking that way. He opened his eyes and studied Fawe's picture, memorizing his features before turning to complete the rest of the afternoon immersed in his materials. At five, Ron stood with a weary mind and heart to go fetch Hermione. Harry hadn't come back yet, Ron itched to go get a look at their clock and make sure he was alright. He walked quickly to the lifts, to Hermione's desk and explained to her that Harry would be meeting them at home later.

At home, Ron pulled Hermione into a tight hug the instant they Flooed out onto the rug. She returned by wrapping both her small arms around him.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" she muttered against his chest. He grunted a small laugh and brought a hand to press the back of her head, feeling the soft curls give under his fingers.

"Uther Fawe, Hermione? Did Erasmus tell you something that you left out?" Ron decided to be blunt. Gryffindor lack of subtly was sometimes the only way.

She tensed but didn't move away from him. "Yes." She said it like a half-question, half-answer.

"About Muggle-born women?" He felt bile rise in his throat, remembering the dream and Greyback above her.

"Just about women," he felt her sigh against his chest, "He said he was particularly violent toward women. I didn't want you to worry - "

"Don't leave things like that out, ok? I could tell, Hermione - " He brought both hands to her shoulder to take a step back and look her in the face. "I could tell you were leaving something out so I checked at work. He goes after Muggle-born women, 'Mione, that's why Erasmus acted so nervous. That's you." He felt his throat try to close up at those words. So tired of being nervous and scared of losing this witch in front of him. His witch.

"Oh," she breathed out, a glimmer of terror shone from her eyes before she blinked up at him with her expression under control. He hadn't missed that first reaction and felt his heart twist. "Oh, Ron - I'll be fine! You're both here and no one is going to get in these wards. . . and if they do, we have the charm up and we'll have plenty of time to defend ourselves, alright?"

He wanted so much to believe she wasn't in danger that he let himself fall into her reassuring words.

"Alright," he looked down at her eyes. Brown with flecks of gold.

"Alright," she smiled up at him with an indomitable air. "I'm going to shower, I feel gross handling all those dusty old files all day."

"Is that an invitation?" he asked cheekily.

"No. It's a statement," she sauced back before tossing her hair over her shoulder. Ron collapsed onto the couch and didn't even rebuff Crookshanks when he jumped up on the back of the couch to lord over the room a few minutes later. A pop announced Harry's arrival in the backyard. He'd forgotten to check the clock as he'd talked with Hermione - oh well, here now, he reckoned. Ron heard him come to the door and walk in without sitting up from his spot on the couch. A moment later Hermione's door opened - that was quick. Then he heard a knock on. . . was that? Before he could sit up and make sense of the noises a blood curdling scream came from the direction of Hermione's bathroom.

"GET OUT!" Hermione's shrill voice demanded and Harry came out with a red face, holding up bleeding hands.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron vaulted over the back of the couch, noticing Harry's bloody hand print on Hermione's door.

"I knocked! She said come in!" Harry defended, waving one bloody hand toward Hermione's door. "How the fuck am I to know when she said 'come in' that she's in the bleeding bathtub?"

Ron swallowed the urge to punch Harry and grabbed his wrists to turn his hands over. "You went in for dittany?"

"Yes, I bloody well tried to," Harry said with pain-driven tears in his eyes.

Hermione burst into the room in her robe with a look of fury that made Ron and Harry both shrink back. Putting Harry's needs before his own selfish anger, Ron interrupted her before she could start yelling.

"'Mi, he's hurt. Dittany, please," he explained calmly. Her fury melted into concern and she raced from the room and back into it.

"What happened?" she asked as she unstoppered the bottle.

"Dolohov's house was set up with hexes. Whoever was there last evidently left it as a trap for people, Aurors. We all got into the house and it sealed us in there," Harry said, pausing to hiss in pain as the dittany healed his flayed skin. He tried to jerk his hand away - natural reflex - and Ron held his wrists in place. "It set itself on fire, the only way to get out was to undo the curses. Thank heaven we had Quord there with us. He used to work as a curse-breaker. I'm an idiot and grabbed the metal handles of the doors to open it while the curse was still - "

"Oh God, Harry," Hermione gasped, dripping more dittany onto his fingers as the skin grew back together.

"I know," Harry inhaled shakily once his hands were healed and looked at Hermione guilty. "I'm really sorry - "

"No, no, it's alright," she said quickly. Ron's rage flared back up: it bloody well was not alright! What the hell did she mean, it's alright? "Well, it's not alright but given the circumstances, I'll let it go," she amended. Better. "Next time? Maybe, announce it's you." Much better.

Harry smiled and nodded sheepishly.

That night after Harry went upstairs, Ron pounced on Hermione as she washed dishes. She laughed lightly as he spun her around and lifted her to sit on the counter. It was weird with her being so much taller than him. Weird but sort of nice. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and after a few minutes of snogging in their half-cleaned kitchen, Ron picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. Really, their bedroom now. He playfully dropped her on the bed which groaned under the strain of accommodating a falling body and her hair bounced over her shoulder as she let out a surprised yelp. He leaned down to take her lips with his own, a light brush to make up for dropping her, he felt her smile against his mouth.

A sound like a cat being tortured went off, screaming, piercing the night. Hermione gasped and pulled her wand out. "The Caterwauling Charm, Ron," she breathed.

"STAY HERE! IF WE DON'T COME BACK INSIDE IN A COUPLE MINUTES, FLOO TO THE BURROW!" Ron was instantly yelling, alert and aware and terrified. Visions of Fawe cluttered his mind. "HARRY!"

Harry was already running down the stairs toward him. "I'll take the back yard."

Ron lunged for the front door and canceled the charm so he could hear properly. The sudden silence of the yard made the night seem to press in around him. He made his way down the front steps and cast a quick '_homenum revelio'_. Nothing. No one was around the front of the house then. Or maybe they'd countered the spell. Or maybe it didn't work outside, he'd never used it outside before. . .

Ron felt his heart racing as he walked slowly, as silently over the grass as he could. His wand lit up small patches of grass in the blue-white light. Window squares of grass were illuminated with yellow light from the inside of the house. The shadows around the house had never seemed darker. A figure moved in the shadows out of the corner of his eye.

"_STUPEFY_!"

A muffled tumble. Merlin's balls, he'd hit him. Ron rushed over to see the intruder.

"BOLLOCKS!" Ron shouted, finding Hermione Stunned beside a shrub. "_Rennervate_!"

Hermione opened her eyes looking very much like a house elf - all wide eyes in a small face. She stood up weakly from the dark grass with Ron pulling her up by one arm roughly.

"Damn it, Hermione! You should have stayed inside, where I bloody well told you to be! I could've killed you! You could've been hurt!" he shouted at her, more shaken than angry.

"I'm not a child, _Ronald._ If you'll recall -" Hermione said tartly back.

"No one is around back so - " Ron glanced up, Harry was coming around the corner from the back yard, carrying something. Ron turned back to Hermione who was still fuming.

" - I was there beside you both for the last seven years and I'm more than able to keep up with you both." She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"NO! Obviously,_ Hermione_! But Harry and I have been practicing - " Ron ran a hand through his hair, not wanting her to know he was scared for her safety. That flashes of his nightmare of her being raped in front of his eyes felt tauntingly, horribly close to reality with Fawe known to be so nearby.

"OH! And just _who_ is it that you think has been helping you both practice! The alert went off. It's my house too. I came out-bloody-side!" Ron swallowed the tiny urge to smile when she swore. He'd rubbed off on her for the worse, it seemed. "You shouting about it and brandishing your wand before you think doesn't help us figure out the alarm any quicker!" Hermione turned to go into the house.

"Well, there's no person here," Harry said, quietly, "I've checked the back. Cat." He held up a kitten. "Seems like this is the intruder. We need to add a spell to keep out animals it seems."

"Fine! See you_ both_ in the morning," Hermione called over her shoulder.

Ron and Harry walked up behind her and as Ron turned to close the front door he heard her door slam and her lock click into place. Harry shot Ron a look with both his eyebrows raised.

"Let it go, Harry," he said, taking the steps up to his underutilized bedroom. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

"Mhmm. Keep the cat?" Harry asked, carrying a small grey kitten.

"I wouldn't. I don't see Crookshanks being too keen on it, do you?" Ron asked, walking up the stairs.

"Maybe I'll set him back out then," Harry sighed, looking the tiny thing in the face.

Ron shrugged at Harry indifferently and shut him and the intruder cat out of his room.

Ron changed into his pajamas in his room and crawled into the small bed, putting his wand under his pillow for safekeeping. After a half hour of denial, Ron turned onto his side and pulled his pillow against his chest with his arm. No more refuting it, he couldn't sleep without Hermione. He had stooped to spooning a pillow.

A tiny knock minutes later on his door was one of the best sounds he'd ever heard. He returned the pillow to its proper spot quickly.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?" he whispered back. His door cracked open slightly and revealed a sliver of brown hair, a brown eye, olive skin, and goofy pajama pants with cats printed on them. She'd worn those hideous ones thinking she was sleeping alone, he realized. He grinned at her and scooted to the side, holding the comforter open for her to join him on his twin bed.

She smirked at him awkwardly and moved wordlessly over the creaky floorboards, scooting in with her back to his front. He buried his face in her hair and they both fell quickly into a heavy sleep.


	31. Closer and Closer

_. . . Chapter 31 _

_. . . Closer and Closer. . . _

* * *

Hermione rolled her neck, grabbing at a sore spot in her spine caused by too much scrunching over files and lay down her quill on her desk. Odette glanced up at Hermione, "Tired?"

Hermione nodded and yawned. "You think we could finish editing this tomorrow to resubmit this to LaFoe?"

Odette brought the edge of her quill up to the corner of her mouth and bit lightly down on the edge of the quill, surveying the rows of text before her in contemplation. "I think so, Grayson said we didn't have to have it completed until August thirtieth so this will still put us like three days early if we finish tomorrow." Hermione watched her coworker lay down the quill and stretch, her light blue robes sliding to reveal unblemished forearms as she stretched her arms toward the vaulted ceiling.

Hermione and Odette had stayed late the last several days in row to try to finish the Goblin Rights Bill for Grayson. Hermione knew from talking with Conway that really Grayson should be the one to be editing it for resubmission to LaFoe. All that meant to Conway was that Grayson was lazy. Hermione, on the other hand, took it as a sign of trust. Even if she didn't particularly like Grayson because of his unscrupulous manner of using Hermione's name to push this bill, she did like feeling like people trusted her to work and work well.

Hermione nodded at Odette and both young women stood simultaneously. Hermione scooted her wooden chair across the floor and pushed it back in to sit neatly under the writing surface of her desk. She levitated the few books still out on her desk into a neat pile and charmed the scroll of parchment on her desk – they had divided the body of the bill into two pieces in order to split the work evenly and efficiently – to roll shut and she pulled out her desk drawer and put the scroll safely in her drawer, locking it. It was so much nicer without those mountains of files cluttering every surface. Odette collected her purse and Hermione walked over to her side of their small alcove.

"Ready?" Hermione asked, as brightly as she could at ten at night. Ron was sure to be nervous about her being there so late, even if she was Flooing directly from work.

Odette glanced around her workspace briefly and affirmed, "Ready." She pulled the elastic out of her hair and combed it with her fingers. Hermione felt the seed of jealousy get fertilized. She had never been able to comb her hair with her fingers like that even now that it had calmed down significantly with her practiced use of daily treatments that Ginny was pushing like she owned stake in it. The floor of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was nearly empty. Only a few of the witches and wizards remained, all with their desk lamps on and weary faces that turned to watch the two of them leave that Thursday night.

Hermione pushed the button on the elevator as Odette recounted a story of Maul Winstrom, the newest intern in the house elf division of the Being Department, and how on her first day last week she'd meant to send a draft of a memo to her boss to 'Knightley' and instead sent the memo to 'Kingsley'. Odette's laugh in the elevator was contagious and Hermione found herself laughing with her. "And the memo was about," Odette paused to catch her breath, "The women's lavatories on our floor, about disposal of menses items!" Odette shrieked a laugh so high pitched that Hermione thought dogs were sure to be tortured for blocks around the Ministry. Hermione blushed for poor Maul who was a sweet, relatively intelligent girl, a Ravenclaw just two years older than Hermione herself.

"Poor Maul!" Hermione said, meaning it even though she kept laughing.

"Oh, I know! Can you imagine? Sending a memo to the Minister about that! Uh, I heard her boss, Lett Strickland moved her onto a case involving some dealing with giants instead of house elves as a punishment," she shuddered to make her point and Hermione rather agreed. Giants weren't predictable enough for her to chance being around them if it wasn't necessary or Hagrid wasn't standing there to act as a buffer.

"Anyway," Odette said, stepping off of the lift at the lobby level, "you ask me, you should get a medal for how well you've done since you started." Their shoes echoed strangely in the cavernous room. "You haven't sent a single awkward memo to the minister," she finished, starting up her laugher again as she stepped into one of the enormous fireplaces and spun out of sight on the green flames.

Hermione stepped into the next hearth and in a flash of green, she flew through the grates and with a speed that never seemed to get old, she was home.

"Hey, 'Mione!" Harry greeted her immediately, closing his Auror training guide, as she stepped out of their fireplace. Harry sprung up from his spot on the couch. Before she could get her wand out of her robes' pocket, Harry had _scourgified_ the ash and powder off of her and she smiled at him in thanks. "Want dinner? Ron waited up for you but I think he's gone up to shower and I was put on dinner duty if you beat him down."

"Sure," she said, shedding her robes and dropping them over the back of the arm chair between the sofa and the fireplace. She knew he was still trying to make up for the tub incident from a week and a half ago. "What're my options?" She started toward the kitchen, following Harry. Her tank top had shifted a bit during the day when it had remained unseen so Hermione straightened and adjusted the straps of it so she didn't look a fright when Ron saw her.

"We had left over pasta from last night, um – should be enough of that left for you – and then the other stuff from a couple nights ago…" Harry trailed off and motioned to the refrigerator. Hermione moved by him and opened it.

"I'll get it Harry if you pour me a glass of some of that wine that Ron bought last week," she said with her head in the fridge, pulling out the pasta. She knew he would ask so she added, "It's on the counter to the left of the stove."

"How is the bill going then? Up there late all week."

"Good, just a lot of reading and research and we wrote it and now we're editing. We're due to finish editing tomorrow then we'll take it before Grayson," she hit the pasta with a warming charm in lieu of the underutilized microwave, "and then if Grayson approves it, it will go before LaFoe and then the bill goes before the Wizengamot and they vote on whether or not it will become law that Goblins will be officially recognized as first class citizens, able to hire representation for court cases, able to hold public office, able to form a school for their children," she stopped talking and picked up her fork, spearing a cherry tomato and a piece of farfalle pasta.

"They don't have a school?" Harry asked, setting her wine down.

Hermione nodded and swallowed. "No! They've petitioned time and again and the Ministry doesn't recognize their right to found a public school! It's horrible, all Goblins are home schooled – for the most part. Some are even uneducated! It's actually part of why you don't see many female Goblins out when you go around because most of the women stay home to teach their children."

"So what do you think the chances are of it passing? I mean it'd be ground breaking if it was, right? Hermione Granger, Goblin Liberator," Harry leaned against the kitchen counter and waved his hand in the air as if to show Hermione's name on a marquee.

She snorted with her mouth full at Harry, who smiled.

"Really, Hermione, this is sort of brilliant. I can't imagine someone that's better suited for it. From SPEW to the Goblin Liaison office – have you thought at all about the house elf division eventually?" He asked, moving to sit beside her at their table.

"I have but it seems like the wizarding public is more willing to accept goblins and centaurs as first class citizens than house elves and giants and the like. Somehow I think that the bills of goblin rights and centaur rights have a higher chance of passing," Harry nodded and Hermione continued. "And I also have a feeling that if those two factions pass bills of rights first that it would then be easier to persuade the public to recognize the rights of other creatures, you know?"

Harry nodded again, thoughtfully, and smiled up at something Hermione could not see. A pair of hands grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, making her jump and gasp. Her fork clattered noisily down onto the plate. Ron swooped down from over her right shoulder, kissing her roughly on the cheek. He hadn't shaved in a couple days and coarse stubble scratched at her cheek.

"Ronald!" she playfully scolded him with a forced angry tone.

"Glad you're finally home," he said bending at a ninety degree angle to hug her shoulders from behind. "Missed you."

She turned to meet his lips briefly and then pulled back and said "I missed you too." When she looked back up to continue talking to Harry, he had looked off to give them some privacy and Hermione smirked. Ron took a seat across from Harry at the table so he could see both of them. "Harry and I were just talking about the legislation that I've been working on, I think we'll finally finish tomorrow," she said grinning.

"Yeah? That's brilliant," he smiled at her. She and he had talked at length about the bill a few times so she wasn't too offended when he didn't elaborate or ask her to.

"Now that_ Ronald_ has come back downstairs, I think I'm going to go hop into bed," Harry punctuated his sentence with a yawn. "Night Ron, night Hermione." Harry brushed Hermione's shoulder with his hand in a show of brotherly affection.

"Night, Harry," they both answered together. Ron and Hermione smiled at each other then and she scooped the last bit of pasta onto her fork.

"How did your day go?" Hermione asked Ron, noticing her favorite freckles on Ron on his neck right where the t-shirt met the line that his shirt collars usually hit, just below his left ear, was showing in the incandescent lighting.

"Good, well…." She noticed he looked tired as he let out a heavy sigh. "Not good but it went alright. Someone had called in another body that we suspect Greyback had a hand in…literally." He roughly wiped his face with his hands, obscuring his face from her.

She pushed her mostly empty plate away, suddenly not hungry any more, and reached out to put a hand on his arm. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, as I'll ever be. S'just awful and makes me - " Ron cut himself short and let the unfinished sentence get filled in by Hermione, who knew he was remembering their brush with Greyback. She moved her hand from the gentle touch on his arm and pulled one of his arms away, drawing his face back into view. His one visible blue eye looked bloodshot and tired and the half of his mouth she now saw was turned down.

"Ron…" she started but couldn't think of what to say. She hated that he still dealt with Greyback, that they all sort of did in a way. She hated that Harry and Ron were both actively throwing themselves in danger every day.

She dropped her arm and stood from her chair moving around the table to stand to Ron's side. She nudged his thigh with her hand and he dropped the one hand still obscuring his face. Morosely, he scooted his chair back and brought his large hands to her waist, his fingers wrapping a long way around her slim back. She slowly brought both her hands to his temples, edging her fingers in his silky, damp hair. At that contact, Ron closed his eyes and breathed out heavily before drawing in a shaky lungful of air. He leaned forward and pulled Hermione toward him at the same time so that his head was buried against her stomach just below her breasts as she stood still between his legs.

Hermione flicked through every piece of vocabulary in her mind and couldn't find a word that she thought would help him overcome the horror of finding these poor girls too late. No words sprung to the forefront of her mind. She felt inadequate, like Ron needed to hear something she couldn't come up with to say. She resolved to show him she was there for him instead of placating him with words. Hermione wrapped her hands and then her arms around his head, bending down to cradle his head in her arms.

Immediately, Ron exhaled and his hot breath transferred through her thin white tank top. The heat of it drew Hermione's attention and she missed the exact moment when his shoulders started to shake. She moved as close to him as physics would allow, pressing against him from her chest to her lower thighs. He wound both arms tightly, painfully almost, around her. Fingertips pressed into her back, desperate for something she wasn't sure of. They stood like that until Ron's shaking had subsided at least five minutes later.

Ron was the one to loosen his grip on her and wipe at his face before moving his face off of her shirt where she could see him. Her hands fell to his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I -" Ron started but Hermione angrily cut him off. Angry at the situation, angry at the slow process of healing.

Making sure to keep her voice gentle in the face of all of the anger that threatened to bloom she said quickly, "Don't you dare apologize, Ron. How are we supposed to get through it at all without each other?"

She looked down at him but he didn't supply her with an answer. Instead, he looked down at her legs which were bare between his that were covered by navy pajama bottoms with quaffles on it. It was so standard Ron that Hermione smiled sweetly at him and squeezed his shoulders to get him to look up at her. He slowly lifted his face to her, he looked embarrassed, tired, and a range of things all at once.

"Let's go to bed Ron," she asked softly, pulling on his shoulders to encourage him to stand. He stood little by little, eventually towering over Hermione by over a foot. Her hands had slid down from his shoulders to his hands. She backed slowly out of the room, bringing him with her into the living room. She dropped one of his hands and walked beside him into her room where he collapsed onto the bed before she had shut the door.

"Ron, would you pull the covers down, I've got to brush my teeth first, alright?" she asked quietly as she watched him shift and pull his wand out of the waistband of his pajama pants where it had been pressed against the side of his leg and put it with a click on his night table. She walked into the bathroom, flipping the light on quickly and brushing her teeth faster than the daughter of dentists knew would do a good job. She turned the light off and walked into the dark room where she assumed Ron was under the covers.

She eased into her side of the bed between the white sheets and felt Ron's eyes on her without seeing them. Hermione scooted in the bed, remembering she was still wearing her day clothes, she blushed but didn't move away as Ron scooped an arm around her and pulled her so that their fronts pressed against each other and their foreheads touched. Hermione adjusted her legs so that one of her legs was between Ron's and one of his was between hers. Tangled. Ron's breath tickled her mouth and cheek and Hermione put a hand on his side.

"'Mione, I don't know what I'd do," he breathed out so quietly that she might not have heard it if they weren't so close together. She knew this time exactly what he needed to hear.

"You'll never have to go through that, Ron. I'm always with you or Harry or at the Ministry or here – I'm not anywhere that's unsafe ever. It's you and Harry that I'm worried about, really. You're both the ones still in the line of fire. But me, I'm," Hermione paused as Ron wrapped himself even tighter around her, "I'm here, always here, always going to be here."

She thought that was the end of their evening and closed her eyes, wiggling a bit more to get settled against his firm chest and bringing her arm that wasn't on Ron's side to curl under her pillow. A moment after her eyes had shut, Ron's lips were on hers with a bruising urgency. She left her eyes closed as his kiss conveyed depths of emotion to her silently. Hermione felt him roll on her a bit and turned onto her back, allowing him to pin her underneath him as he moved his lips from her mouth to her neck. She arched up against him and sighed a breathless, "oh," into the quiet room. Ron moved down her neck and Hermione's heart started racing as he came to her exposed collarbone. He leaned off of her onto one elbow and brought his hand to the bottom edge of her tank top, edging it up over her stomach to the underside of her bra slowly. He sat up off of her and used both hands to whip the top off, leaving her looking up at him in her gray bra and her jean shorts. She leaned up to him, snaking her hands underneath his shirt and urging it off. Her arms were too short to reach so Ron took the task from her and peeled his shirt off, throwing it to the side of the bed beside where her shirt had fallen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Ron didn't look anything like a boy anymore. Scars decorated his form and instead of detracting from him, it made Hermione react to him even more. His shoulders were broadening with his work and age. His eyes blazed into hers.

When he leaned back over her, Hermione brought her fingers to Ron's back. Fingers skirted over muscle. Ron shuddered, closing his eyes. He brought one hand to brace himself over her and the other to her breast. She moaned lightly but Ron silenced it with another hard meeting of their lips. The minutes flew by and Hermione found herself without her bra or shorts and Ron in his boxers. She recognized the hungry look in his eyes and knew hers matched. With a racing heart she put her hands on Ron and flipped him so that she straddled his lap. He put both hands on her hips, looking her up and down in the dim room. Flexing his fingers, Ron moved her hips over himself, groaning at the way their bodies pressed together through the two layers of fabric. Hermione slid down his legs, raking her fingers down to catch his boxers as she had done before. She must've been going too slow for him because he sat up, flipping her to rest on the mattress and hooked his fingers into the lace band of her underwear, sliding them down slowly. Even though they had done this before, Hermione bit her lip and tried to control the flush that she knew was evident on her chest and face. His hands slid up the inside of her legs and his fingers did the familiar dance inside her that had her clenching down on his two fingers and gasping her release in the dark.

Ron grinned at her and Hermione reached down and took him in her hand. Something in his eyes was deeper, darker with desire, tonight that made her breath catch. She spread her legs more and moved her hands to his hips and moved him between her legs. His breathing completely changed in that instant. Her heart rate sped up and she wondered if this, _this_, was it. If they were about to take this next step, Hermione realized, there wouldn't be any going back. She leaned back from his mouth long enough to whisper, "don't ever leave me, Ron. Promise, _promise_ me that you'll stay, you'll always be mine." Her desperate supplication made her feel even more naked than she was.

"I promise. Can I always call you mine?" Ron spoke in a low and wavering voice that melted Hermione, who squirmed under him. Her mind and heart were speeding ahead, her body shook with nervous expectation.

"Always," she met his eyes and a thousand promises passed between them. A promise to love. An unspoken promise to maybe one day marry and have a family. . . He put his hands on either side of her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked in the softest voice.

"Yes, I'm - "

A knock sounded at their door. Hermione and Ron both froze. Ron kept his hands on her face but looked toward the door.

"I'm sorry! Hermione, Erasmus is outside, behind the backyard fence. I keep seeing him pace by and you're the only one he likes. I think he wants something….I don't want to go out there and have him yell at me again – you'll go, right?" Harry asked from the other side of the white door.

Hermione's bare chest rose and fell deeply as she let her head drop down heavily onto the pillow. Ron had turned to glare at the door as if to set it on fire with his eyes alone. Ron rolled away from her and Hermione had never wanted to hit Harry so much in her life.

"Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Damn it, Harry! I'll go!" she shouted at him and heard his feet retreat back from the door. "I'm sorry, just…just give me a little bit?" Hermione asked Ron as she rolled out of the bed and threw on her shorts.

"Ugh, Harry is going to pay for that," Ron said, pulling a sheet over his lower half. He looked livid but his eyes were still dark with echoes of what they had been about to do.

Hermione let one laugh out. "Yeah, I swear. I think I might try to figure up some new hex for that interruption." She snapped her bra behind her back and pulled on Ron's shirt. She walked around to his side of the bed and kissed him as hard as she could without falling over onto him. "Be right back," she said as she hurried out of the room.

She walked out the back gate and saw Erasmus waiting on her there. His eyes narrowed when he saw her step out.

"Hey, Harry said you wanted something?" she asked him, must be urgent if he had come so late at night.

"Yes," he cleared his throat. "It's come to the attention of several people in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that the safety of the Elder Wand might be an issue."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and exhaled slowly. Ron had hinted that he thought Parnell had strung the problem of the Elder Wand together months ago. "We've got it under control."

"That's good to know because there are rumors that people might be coming after Pot - Harry for it. He's left the wand at the grave? It's not here, right?" Erasmus shifted his weight to his other leg and pulled both of his arms behind himself as if stretching.

"No, it's not. And you shouldn't worry about Harry – he's, well he's no longer the master of it. I've already thought about that," Hermione paused, stopping herself. "Anyway, which Aurors were talking about it, do you remember?"

A thoughtful look crossed Erasmus' face and then an angry flash that Hermione couldn't decipher.

"I don't remember. So someone else has got it and it is safe?" He looked genuinely concerned and Hermione felt a bit uneasy at anyone else knowing their secret of the master of the Elder Wand.

"Well, we haven't moved it from where Harry put it in May and the master of it is an individual who typically avoids dangerous situations in which she might get disarmed and thus transfer that power." He grinned at her as he puzzled through her meaning and she caught herself running back over the words in her head. Hermione took a step back, frowning. His teeth bared and something about his expression made her feel sick with recollection. His arms swung from behind his back and Hermione gasped, the tips of his fingers were reddened, bloody. _Trap_, her brain screamed, _not Erasmus_. She flung the tip of her wand down at the ground, dirt and grass went everywhere and Hermione Disapparated from outside her wards in the backyard inside the boundary of the wards in the front yard.

She ran up the path to the front door and let the door fly open.

"RON! HARRY! It wasn't him, Erasmus! I think it was . . ." She stopped herself, her nightmares were playing tricks on her. ". . . I think it was someone else, RON!" Hermione shouted and Ron ran out of their room in his boxers with his wand outstretched.

"Send a message to the ministry, Harry," Ron spoke with a quick and deadly calm, looking out the back window. Harry scrambled down the stairs, summoning a quill and ink and frantically writing the message. Hermione stood beside Ron. The faux Erasmus was gone. "How could you tell?" Ron asked without looking at her.

"He had blood on his fingers and he was smirking wrong and – oh, God – he asked me about," Hermione stopped. If she told Ron that detail, he'd want to become the master of the Elder Wand. Another secret. They'd been their constant companion for seven years. Secrets. Secrets. Secrets. There was no other option for the master of the Elder Wand and he'd just worry more if he knew. Ron didn't catch her omission, thank Merlin. He turned to grasp a clammy hand at the back of her neck, kissing her on the forehead.

"He seems to be gone, we'll get the guys here and check the wards," he said, gently guiding her with the hand on the back of the neck back to her bedroom. "You stay in here and I'll come back to bed when they've checked around town a bit."

"But -" she protested but he interrupted her.

"No, I won't be able to think if you're outside the wards. Plus the Aurors. . . Please, _please_ wait here," he begged her as he pulled his pants back on beside her bed. He frowned at her silence. "Promise, Hermione."

"I promise," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Ok, give me my shirt back," he gave her a small smile and she took off the shirt she had on and handed it to him. Ron pulled it back on and leaned down, winding a hand into her hair. "Stay here. I love you."

"I love you too," she said with their eyes connected. He left her there without another word, shutting her door on the way out. She heard him leave with Harry after a series of pops announced the arrival of the other Aurors outside. She shed her shorts and bra and summoned a pair of pj shorts and put them on, listening carefully to the silence of the house. She crawled between the still-warm sheets and though she fought to stay awake until Ron and Harry returned, she lost that battle during the darkest part of early morning.


	32. Resurfacing and an Argument

_. . . Chapter 32 _

_. . . Resurfacing and an Argument . . . _

* * *

He and Harry finished their sweep of Ottery St. Catchpole around four that morning and the Aurors that had come to find the imposter had left. Ron felt his stomach churn and retched, bending over a flower bed in their front yard. Harry stopped walking and stood, facing away, waiting on Ron. He had already gotten sick once when Harding had traced the magical signature he detected of Disapparation where Hermione had described. Fenrir Greyback had been within an arm's reach, with Hermione and outside the wards. Ron stood straight. His chest hurt from dry heaving when there wasn't anything left. Harry looked as grim as he felt. If Greyback could trace the Auror department's Preventer for the area to them then was there someone in the Auror department that was in with Greyback or had he been stalking them?

Since Hermione hadn't been taken by Greyback then Harding, Elwood, Keyling, Parnell and the rest of them had agreed that she wasn't the target. It did not help Ron's feelings on the matter. He couldn't speak to Harry and hadn't unless he couldn't help it since he had asked him to owl the Ministry. Harry had directly put Hermione on a path that could have gotten her killed. Deep down, Ron knew it wasn't Harry's fault but it was easier for him to be mad at Harry and channel his feelings from terror into anger than it was to face how scared he was. Harry opened the door for him and let him go through. It didn't do a thing to budge Ron's rage.

The only thing that touched Ron's anger was walking into Hermione's room, seeing her sleeping on her stomach with her bare back visible from where she had kicked the sheets down. He shut the door as quietly as he could and froze when she stirred in her sleep. She made a tiny, whiny noise and wiggled her bum under the sheet as she tried to snuggle deeper into the mattress. Ron moved to her side of the bed because she had sprawled onto his side. He shed his shirt and his shoes and got gently into bed, careful not to touch her and wake her up. Once he was settled he looked down at her, her head was sideways on her pillow and a few strands of hair had fallen in front of her slightly open mouth. Every time she inhaled or exhaled the curl would move accordingly. It was hypnotizing. He spent the rest of the hour watching her breathe with his wand securely locked in his hand until sleep claimed him for its own.

Ron woke up with his wand on the floor and his leg thrown over Hermione's. She was still chest down and with the morning light streaming in as he looked over her beautiful back. The small raised scars between her shoulder blades caught some of the sideways morning light and threw delicate shadows down her back. He knew now that those were from the ill-fated trip she and Harry had taken to Godric's Hollow. They'd talked about how she managed to flee with Harry through the window but when they'd gotten back to the tent, she had concentrated on getting him into bed while he was unconscious. Then she'd picked the glass out of her back with her wand and rubbed dittany all over the parts of the back she could reach. The scars were all grouped together in a part of her back she couldn't reach and could only drip dittany on. She had said that she tried manipulating it with her wand but had nearly singed off her hair so she'd decided to live with whatever small scars were there.

Looking over her back, Ron remembered how Fleur had been carefully massaging dittany and other healing salves into Hermione's back at Shell Cottage after they'd been at the manor. Hermione had taken a Dreamless Sleep potion that first evening and Ron had walked in on Fleur crying and mending Hermione's broken skin. Fleur had confessed to Ron that she'd never spoken with Hermione enough to know her very well but that anyone who could withstand _this_, she had motioned to Hermione's still form, was a hero as far as she was concerned. Ron had sat with Fleur while she worked on Hermione's slim back, crying without shame in his sister-in-law's presence. He sat now with her after what could so nearly have been another near death occurrence for Hermione. He felt nauseous with it all as he rose from the bed.

"Ron?" a sleepy voice called to him right before he had slipped out the door. He stopped and wordlessly turned around and faced her. She sat up and the sheet slipped off of her chest. Ron's heart clenched painfully at the glorious sight of her. He remembered how close they had come to tearing down that last wall between each other last night and adopted a more tender expression for her. "You're ok. Harry too?"

He nodded, walking toward the bed.

"You found Erasmus?" she asked. Realizing her breasts were exposed, she grabbed the sheet and brought it up around her, blushing beautifully.

"No, we didn't," he felt like the admission somehow let her down.

"Did you find out who it was?"

He sat on the edge of the bed with a heavy conscience. He hung his head and sighed deeply before answering. "Yes."

Ron felt her squirm on the mattress until she could lean her side against his back. She rested her head against his shoulder blades. It was as if she already knew that it was bad news.

"And?" she prompted gently.

"Greyback." He felt her breathing stop against his back and couldn't bring himself to look at her frightened face. Of all their old enemies, Ron knew Greyback was one of the most terrifying, especially to him and Hermione. Rumors of brutality had recently become concrete fact for Ron; however, and the confrontation of Greyback's handiwork was a constant reminder of how lucky they were that Pettigrew had shown a bit of mercy and Greyback hadn't gotten his filthy hands on the girl leaning against him. Her breathing suddenly resumed with a panting panic. He turned to face her and put his hands on her upper arms. "I will kill him Hermione, I swear it. I'll be the one. I've never been so sure of anything in my life." Her breathing didn't slow so he rubbed her arms with his thumbs to center her.

"So close," she breathed out strangely.

_Exactly_, he thought. "I know… He didn't get into the wards though so he still can't get in here, okay?" But Greyback could remove wards if given enough time, Ron reflected silently, vowing to look into strengthening them. God, if only she'd go live somewhere else, somewhere safer. . .

Hermione nodded and took deep breaths. "Listen, it's Friday, we'll go to work and then we can relax this weekend and Teddy will visit on Sunday and this will pass, alright?" She nodded again and her breathing regulated. "Hop up and we'll leave in," he paused to study his watch, "we'll leave in an hour and go a bit earlier today so Harry and I can help write reports on last night."

"Okay," she said, finally regaining her normal voice. He left her in her room, still half nude in bed and within an hour, the three of them had gathered in the backyard. Hermione seemed more willing to forgive Harry than he felt. Harry Disapparated with a hold on each of them and all three swirled away in midair in their work robes.

That day, a string of Aurors stopped by both Harry's and Ron's desks to ask about the night before. Thankfully Parnell and Harding took the majority of those questions but Ron had been glad to speak with a few more of the Aurors and meet a few he hadn't spoken with before. Kane Strauss was a German – by his accent – Senior Auror in his mid thirties that was on the standard raids that were the typical Auror fare. Gerald Gerthner was a Senior Auror that was quickly aging out of the field jobs and he did a lot of the research, mapping, and preparation work for raids and the like. Jack Holloway was an American Auror who had transferred from the American Ministry of Magic. Holloway looked like a Quidditch type from his broad build and made Ron feel like a kid in the worst way, like he didn't measure up. Holloway was nice enough though. Silvestri came over and spoke to them as well, she was one of the female Aurors that was still dainty and unscarred enough to still be nice to look at. He'd caught Harry's eye from a few desks down after Harry had watched her walk away with a particular interest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. She's hexed wizards for less," Harding had commented with a gruff humor, not looking up from his work.

Harry and Ron had been the ones tasked to complete a draft of the report that Harding would then edit and finish. They opened their guidebooks to the section detailing what had to be included and so forth and then asked Harding for a copy of a previously filed report. It was surreal writing their own address and made his heart race when he wrote 'Victims: None'.

"You alright?" Harding asked him, taking their draft of the report once they had completed it and had it ready.

"Just worried is all. Don't like that she was out there with the primary target that you and I have, you know? Especially after seeing all the things I've seen out with you around…." Ron finished softly, not wanting to show Harding how worried he truly was.

"Yeah, Felitt over there – the one missing his right arm," Harding gestured at a man right at Harry's height across the room.

"Yeah? What about him?" Ron asked, turning from Felitt back to Harding.

"His wife, Emily, was targeted a few years back when he had been on Bellatrix Lestrange's case and was getting a bit too ambitious about his raids and his tailing of her. Emily was taken and wasn't returned to him until Felitt vowed to stop all his investigation of Bellatrix," Harding sniffed and glanced behind him to make sure no one was listening. "She hasn't ever been the same. She's around at Christmas parties and the like but it's like all of her personality was sucked out. Emily is dead smart, still works somewhere I think, but she's never smiling and she never speaks unless she's around Felitt or you ask a direct question."

"That's awful," Ron said, glancing over at the man's form as he worked at his desk. He felt sick remembering Hermione being alone with Bellatrix at the Manor and gripped the wood edge of his desk tightly.

"Well that's part of the risk. Anyone you associate with could potentially be at risk. Nicolette and I talked at length about all that before I proposed," Harding sat down in his chair to finalize the draft of the report. "Oh, and Ron?"

Ron looked at Harding at the sound of his name.

"Ron, if I were you and Harry I would start practicing Occlumency," Harding looked at Ron very seriously. "You both were a bit, um. . . distraught acting last night. Which is understandable but. . . you'll need to keep a clearer head in the field even when loved ones are involved and the practice of Occlumency will help you both keep a tighter rein on your emotions. Not to mention it is useful if someone tries to get information from you. Alright?"

Ron nodded and sank into his chair and continued his study of the guidebook with a horrible new worry festering in his head. Over the course of the day the worry for Hermione's safety planted ideas that had grown like a cancer. His hands were almost shaking as he picked up his wand to leave for the day.

Hermione had sent them a note at work and asked if they had wanted to grab lunch at the Leaky but they had both been working on the report so Ron had had to write her and tell her he couldn't. Her next note said that she'd be home a bit early and to meet her there when they got off. On the way out of the Ministry, Mr. Weasley had evidently gotten word of their close encounter the night before and pulled both Ron and Harry behind one of the large fireplaces that lined the lobby by their collars.

"If I _ever_, I mean EVER, have to find out about a brush with Fenrir Greyback at my childrens' house from Frederick Zollop instead of my own child's mouth," Ron noticed his dad was taking turns glaring from Ron to Harry as he spoke, "then Merlin help me I will snatch you three into line so quick - "

Ron raised his hands in surrender and his dad dropped his hands from their robes but the blazing look in his eyes remained. "Sorry, dad. It just was a rough night and morning and we - I guess it just got lost in the shuffle."

"Your mother is going to worry now that you apparently aren't going to let us know _ANYTHING_- " A fair few witches and wizards were glancing in their direction at Mr. Weasley's volume. - "since you three are living on your own," he paused and looked from Ron to Harry. "You three must still let us know things, especially things of this nature. And if you two would pass this message along to Hermione as well?"

Ron nodded and Harry did the same, looking shocked at the parental reprimand. His dad took a step back out of their personal space and his look softened from raw rage to bald concern.

"And how are you?" he asked them both but Ron knew he included Hermione as well in his inquiry.

"We're ok, Greyback was Polyjuiced as Erasmus Lanning, the guard covering Ottery St. Catchpole. He stood and paced around the back of our fence and then since he's more comfortable talking to Hermione – you know he's a strange bloke – Hermione is the one that went out to speak to him," Ron paused and took a breath wondering how he was going to work his way into the talk he knew he had to have with Hermione. "He moved toward her and she caught a view of his hands that were stained with blood. She Apparated into the front yard and away from him. The Aurors came quick but we didn't catch him. Chalden Harding recognized the magical signature," he summarized quickly, watching dad categorize every phrase with a different facial expression.

His dad was nodding but he looked worried. "Well, I know you'll keep us in the know from now on. Tell Hermione not to go around on her own. If you two stay late and she wants to leave, I can go to make sure she gets home safely just tell her to send me a note and I'll go with her or send someone that can, alright?"

Ron felt a rush of gratitude for his dad's offer, "Thank you, dad, we'll tell her." He moved to embrace his father, realizing as his father clapped him on the back that he was taller now than his dad. Funny, his dad always seemed larger than him. It was part of why he had been so shocked and horrified when his father had been hurt in fifth year. It was mind boggling that your parents weren't pillars of strength but were just as human as you were.

His father walked with them over to the fireplaces and left in a flash of green flames after asking them to meet them at the Burrow for dinner on September 1st to help mum adapt with Ginny being gone for the year. Harry's face had fallen at the reminder but they agreed and told him all three of them would be there. He and Harry went through the grate and appeared back in their living room.

The living room was empty save for Ron and his nervous heart and Harry. He had decided after speaking with Harding that day about Felitt's wife being targeted that he and Hermione might need to discuss her going somewhere else for a bit, just until they could track down Greyback who they believed was targeting Harry for possibly the Elder Wand or maybe just revenge. His chest tightened - Hermione was the true master of it now. What if anyone figured that out?

He and Harry were confronted with the smell of a casserole or something. The smell of it filled the living room and the kitchen. They walked into the kitchen and Hermione was at the table with "Hogwarts, A History" and a glass of wine. Ron smiled at the familiar scene.

"Oh, you're home!" Hermione exclaimed, standing quickly to hug Ron and then Harry in turn. "Dinner's making and then I thought we could do something! Like maybe hook up the TV in my bag that I grabbed months ago from my parents! Ron – you'll love TV!" She looked giddy at the idea of the 'TV'.

"That'd be brilliant!" Harry piped up from his side and Ron barely spared him a glance.

"Um. . . Sure, Hermione," Ron said but then he thought, why wait on the discussion they had to have? "Can I help you in here?"

She glanced behind her at the oven which had a timer set on it that was counting down from 46:00. "Not really, I've popped it in there for a bit but - "

"Then I'll just… Can we talk?" he asked her and watched her eyes narrow and flash.

"Sure, just, um…" she was looking at Harry beseechingly.

"I'll just . . . give you two a minute," Harry said looking annoyed with being kicked out of his own kitchen. Harry turned and stomped up the stairs like Charlie used to when he was in a snit. Ron knew he'd have to apologize for this later.

When they were in the room alone, Ron moved to sit at the table and Hermione did so as well, although her movements were a bit slower and more cautious. She sat across from him and scratched her scalp with her fingers a bit, loosening her curls from the messy bun she'd created and held in place with her wand. He cleared his throat. If he stayed calm, maybe this wouldn't bite him in the arse.

"Ok, so…well with last night and then at work I was thinking that maybe you and I could talk about some things…" he looked at her and she scowled. Great.

"What kind of things, Ronald?" Ugh, he was Ronald already?

"Safety," he huffed out. "Yours specifically. I think that you should go to the Ministry during the day with me and Harry and then leave the Ministry with us or with dad. And then you should have someone with you whenever you leave the house. And we'll put up stronger wards and then - " he'd noticed her countenance darkening with every phrase that left his mouth so he trailed off, worried he gone down the wrong path

"And then?" she prompted sharply.

"…I just want to make sure that what happened last night doesn't happen again," Ron saw her frigid expression thaw dramatically.

"It won't, Ron, but you can't just set me up with a babysitter all the time," she placed her hand on his and their eyes connected.

"No, but…Well it also occurred to. . . I think maybe in the mean time…" he gulped, "maybe you should stay with someone else, just in case."

She withdrew her hand immediately. "What?"

He didn't respond to her question but stared at the hand she'd withdrawn so quickly.

"And go where may I ask?"

"The Burrow? Shell Cottage? Somewhere Greyback wasn't standing just outside of last night, preferably," he retorted with a vicious bite. Bad move, Weasley. Anger lit up her delicate features.

"Oh ho! Why not hide out at Gringotts in a vault? I'll go hide out there if that suits your fancy!" she paused but cut him off when he opened his mouth. "I knew you'd do this at some point. No. Now you listen to me, Ronald. I'm living here with you and Harry and if you worry about my safety then you're just getting a taste for how much I worry about the two of you. This isn't any different!" She finished with her voice starting to get louder progressively. She was only a few decibel levels away from breaking into a yell.

"It bloody well is different. That's work. This is a murderer coming to our house, to our back yard, and standing inches from you! And damn it, _Hermione_," he spat out her name in retaliation for how she'd _Ronald-_ed him. "I'm not going to sit around and wait for him to come back. And you're not prepared to defend yourself like we are and just please just think about going to Shell Cottage for a while?"

"Fine, how long then, Ron? How long until it is _safe_ for us to be together here?" She had balled up her hands into fists on the table and had lowered her voice. "And what exactly do you mean 'I can't defend myself' and 'I'm not prepared'?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. Ugh, I mean you can defend yourself. I shouldn't have said that," he sighed angrily, "Just listen to me right now, ok?" he struggled to keep his voice calm. "It would really make me feel better if you went and let Bill and Fleur watch out for you."

"Ron, I'm not going! That's ridiculous. The three of us came through the last year together, the wards we have up now are much stronger. I. am. not. going." She enunciated each word with a tap of her finger against the tabletop.

"Yes you are – you NEED to, Hermione!" He immediately tried to take back the first part of what he'd said.

"'_YES YOU ARE_!' Who the hell do you think you are banishing me away? Telling me I can't take care of myself? Would it make your life easier then? Want to send me to go to some tower off somewhere where you can lock me away from the monsters?"

"Yes, actually, I would. Live at Hogwarts for the bleeding year, stay safe there and then, _yes_, by May we should have Greyback handled and we can be together. Harding thinks we're on track to get ahead of him in the next few months and then you can live here and come and go as you damn well please without me having to worry about where you are and think that every small sound out of your room is you being tortured by the bloody git." He knew he lied about Harding but it might help him make his case with Hermione. White lies didn't count. . .

"_Seriously?_ I suggest Gringotts to show you how ridiculous you are and you suggest_ Hogwarts?_" The air cracked with livid magic around her. "That's a year, Ron!" She stood up from the table. His heart sped up, a year was impossible but he'd have to sacrifice it for her safety. The option of her returning there was probably the safest choice they had.

"Well, you're the one that doesn't seem to understand exactly how dangerous this is. You're over reacting. I'm just looking out for you - " he tried to keep his voice from wavering and cracking.

"I…_I_ don't understand the danger?" she was rolling up her sleeve and realized she couldn't get the tight sleeve of her shirt up high enough to reveal all the letters on her arm. She fumbled with the buttons in her rage and threw the button down shirt on the kitchen floor. He was momentarily distracted by the white lace bra and what was worse was that she noticed. Had she worn that for him? For tonight? He'd never seen that one before.

She thrust her scarred arm out in front of her where he couldn't help but look at it: m u d b l o o d in pink letters. "That bastard held me down so that this could happen and threatened to rape me. You think I don't remember that? You think I'm not careful all the time?" She bent down to pick up her shirt, balling it in front of her chest.

"Still, I think you should go somewhere else until -" he lowered his voice to try to communicate calmly but it was hard as he pictured Hermione's petrified body, Greyback mauling her, and Bellatrix hovering over her poor arm with a knife . . .

"Fine," she interrupted and turned to leave the room.

"Fine?" he called after her, stunned. That's not the way he'd expected this conversation to end at all.

"Fine." She slammed her door behind her. Ron distinctly heard it lock. Brilliant.

Ron turned on his heel to walk up the stairs and saw Harry sitting in his room with the door open. Before Ron could get into his room and shut the door, Harry called out, "Shouldn't have done that, Ron."

Ron left his doorway for Harry's and leaned against the jamb. "It'll be safer that way if she goes to Shell Cottage."

Harry looked up at him incredulously. "That's not what you said. You just told her you can't be together right now and then you told her to go away for a year to Hogwarts. You sounded like you were taking a break – breaking up almost."

Ron felt his lungs go flat like he'd been punched. "That's not what I meant, she knows that. . . " He looked at Harry, "she knows that, right?"

Harry clenched his jaw and a muscle in it twitched in agitation. Bloody hell was he pissing everyone off today? "I tried this with Ginny, Ron and she was angry for almost a year over it. She worries all the time that I'll pull a stunt like that again. You better make it right with Hermione before this blows up anymore."

"But she overreacted. You heard her," Ron said but it came out weakly.

Harry raised his eyebrows at him significantly. He turned and left Harry's room grumbling in the privacy of his own room until the oven went off. He kept waiting for a light knock on his door like last night that never came.

Hermione didn't emerge from her room for his or Harry's knocks. After an hour had gone by and Hermione's door remained shut, Harry had unlocked the door and found her gone. Ron stormed in, half her clothes gone, Crookshanks gone, even her shampoo and things: gone. Hermione didn't resurface that weekend, didn't come to work Monday or Tuesday. Hermione had left a note for Harry that simply explained she was safe and didn't want to talk. Ron had a sinking feeling that instead of making sure she was always safely with him that he'd made sure she wouldn't be with him at all. He sent her a letter by Persephone every night she was gone and the owl returned like clockwork each night, without any letter.


	33. A Journey and Anxiety

_. . . Chapter 33 _

_. . . A Journey and Anxiety . . . _

* * *

On September 1st, Hermione stepped onto platform 9 ¾ with the throngs of students making the journey back to Hogwarts. She'd left their house on Valona after the horrendous fight with Ron a few days before. He wanted some separation and by Merlin, this was a separation. She sighed and set her shoulders resolutely. She had sent an owl to Hogwarts requesting a spot to Professor McGonagall, who had been glad to offer Hermione the chance to complete her schooling in person rather than through correspondence as they had originally agreed. No matter how much every fiber of her being wished to remain, Hermione was heading back to Hogwarts.

Hermione pushed her cart with her trunk through the crowd and tried to keep her head down to avoid any unwanted attention. She wasn't sure exactly how much of her year would be returning to Hogwarts and really didn't want to get hassled on the way there. She'd never had a nice quiet first day of school, usually from something Harry and Ron had gotten up to. Thinking about them made her stomach twist so she concentrated on the front wheels of her cart and sped up to reach the train section she always tried to enter in on: second to the front, back door. Before she could reach it a kinds and sickeningly familiar voice called her out.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley called. "Hermione, sweet, is that you?"

Hermione turned, simultaneously hating Ron for putting her in this position and missing Ron terribly at the sight of his mother. "Yes, hello Mrs. Weasley. How are you?" That level of formality in her tone made Mrs. Weasley take a step back and Hermione had to restrain herself from taking a step forward and trying to make amends. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips slightly before speaking.

"Just fine dear, you?" she asked with a look of sadness spread so clearly across her face that Hermione knew she'd never forget it.

"Fine, just, oh- " Hermione was bumped into by some tiny, timid looking first year, judging from the robes without any signs of house coloring in the uniform.

"Sorry, Miss. I - " he squeaked out, terrified.

"It's fine," she said, quickly turning back to Mrs. Weasley. "Well I guess that I better…" She gestured down at her trunk.

"Oh, yes. Ginny's just gone in…" Mrs. Weasley paused to gaze at Hermione. "I'll be waving you both off dear. You'll write?"

Hermione knew she wouldn't, that she couldn't bear it unless she and Ron fixed things. "Yes, I'll write. See you later." And she turned away from the mother of the man she loved and hurried onto the train. Proving something by leaving was proving harder than she'd expected. She already missed Ron, how was she supposed to last the whole year? Tears welled up in her eyes as she made her way down the train by the line of compartments and a slender red-head stepped into her path and gently pulled her into the compartment which was already occupied by a white-blonde haired girl. _Luna_, thought Hermione, glad to find only these two in the compartment with her.

Ginny guided Hermione into the seat beside the window and sat beside her, wordlessly. Oh, right, she'd know because of Harry. Hermione realized that Harry had probably told Ginny of the entire fight. She knew Ginny would understand after Harry had pulled almost exactly the same stunt with her the last year to run off with her and Ron to do everything they'd done. At least Hermione knew that Ron would be relatively safe whereas Ginny knew Harry would be throwing himself in front of danger consistently to fight You-Know-Who. Hermione felt she might drown under the waves of compassion for Ginny and guilt for her flippant disregard of Ginny's feelings at this same time last year. She wiped roughly at her eyes and tried to hide her face a bit from Ginny and Luna by concentrating on the quickly passing crowd on the platform as the train sped away from King's Cross. As she surveyed the people she mistakenly made eye contact with the worried brown eyes of Molly Weasley. She jumped back away from the glass as if it had scalded her forehead and prayed to whatever gods were listening that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't tell Ron if she'd noticed her crying. Horrified that she had jumped away from the closest person she had to a mum now, Hermione buried her head in her hands and openly let out a strangled sob.

She felt Ginny rise from beside her and close the curtains, sealing them into their piece of the train as they left the station. Ginny then sat beside Hermione and scooted so that they were hip to hip. Ginny plopped her hand down on Hermione's jean-clad knee, palm up. Hermione turned to look at her and the two conversed purely through facial expression. Hermione read Ginny's sympathy and her willingness to be there for her and was eternally grateful for her understanding. Hermione put her hand in Ginny's and let her head back against the fabric of the train seat, closing her burning eyes.

Hermione soon found that she couldn't make herself sleep and instead all of the frustrations and sadness boiling just beneath the surface bubbled over and hot tears began leaking out of Hermione's closed eyes. She felt Ginny release her hand and start wiping some of her tears away with a conjured handkerchief.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Ginny said quietly but firmly.

Without opening her eyes, Hermione replied, "I know but he suggested it and, you know I rather like school… and honestly if he and I are going to live together but not _be_ together then," Hermione's voice cracked with a sob and she opened her eyes to find Ginny and Luna staring at her. "Then, I just can't…"

"Harry said that Ron suggested you break up for safety reasons but one thing I don't think Ron understands is that you're already there – or you were – and I don't know if they weren't aware or whatever but Hogwarts isn't the safe haven that it used to be. And now they'll be there and you'll be here and," Ginny softened her voice when Hermione sniffed dramatically, "I just don't think Ron's thought it through. It's not like when you all left and I was at Hogwarts. You're one of the _Golden Trio_," Ginny rolled her eyes as she said it. "So I hate to be the one to break it to you but you're going to be in danger, period. And anyway, Ron broke it off? Ron is crazy about you. It's all mental, Hermione."

"I know that's wh -" Hermione started but was interrupted by a persistent Ginny.

"No, I mean…. Oh, Merlin's pants…Please don't get mad but I mean that I think it would have blown over…" Ginny let that statement hang in the air a long time before standing and leaving the compartment. Luna picked up her Quibbler copy and Hermione started reading the headlines off of it to herself to keep from thinking about what Ginny had said.

"I'd talk to you if you wanted Hermione but I rather thought that you needed to cry. And I think I agree with Ginny. Ron is Ron," Luna said evenly and cryptically from the other side of the periodical cover that touted the merits of applying Flobberworm paste topically.

"Yes, Ron is Ron," Hermione muttered darkly as she settled in to the seat and tried to let her mind drift but instead it kept getting pulled back into memories and thoughts: the warnings about Fawe, the close encounter with Greyback, the fact that they still hadn't found Erasmus. She also spent her time considering how close she and Ron had come to finally becoming one with each other just a few nights ago. She hadn't been waiting just to wait but she had been waiting for _the_ moment. She had known it would come and she would know without a shadow of the doubt that it was the right time for them and then she had and they'd gotten so close and then Greyback. Then the blow up over how he was an Auror-in-Training and she would be safer if they weren't together for now. . . She balled her fists up in rage, recalling how she had asked when it would be safe and he'd not given her a good answer. She wondered if he knew yet that she was headed to Hogwarts or if he knew she'd finally cleared out the rest of her parents' house and put it up for sale with a realtor. She didn't know if she wanted him to know or not, it had been a horribly miserable three days.

Finally, hours later, they arrived at the platform. The ride to Hogwarts had never felt so long or so cold. Ginny and Luna stood and walked with Hermione off of the train. Hermione turned her head so that Hagrid wouldn't see her. Her stomach churned in guilt – she just couldn't face the questions from him. In her last letter she'd waxed poetic about their new house and their new jobs and she knew he'd take one look at her puffy eyes and _know_.

The customary ride in the carriages even lacked the charm of previous years. The thestrals that always seemed so mysterious before reminded her of leaving Privet Drive with Harry and she swallowed the lonely feeling at approaching Hogwarts without Harry and Ron. She would do this. She instantly made up her mind to quit comparing things and just be there. She was here. She would be mentally here as well. This was what she'd decided. Ginny and Luna clamored into the carriage behind Hermione. A younger Ravenclaw that Hermione remembered was named Ackerley – she stopped and puzzled over his first name – then the girl he was always with, Emma Dobbs, another Ravenclaw climbed into the carriage. Emma and Stewart, both fifth years now, she recognized. She remembered seeing them together in the halls, they were inseparable. The thought made her feel isolated; she didn't recognize one of them fully without the other one present.

The castle didn't look any different as it had in years past as she and the rest of the students walked in except for a grand memorial in the entry way. It was both reassuring and eerie. Both walls of carved stone had been replaced with black granite, the names of students and teachers and families etched into the face of the stone alphabetically. The masses of incoming students pressed on the backs of the ones that stopped so Hermione had been forced to walk on without studying the wall enough for her fill. She would have to come by it when there weren't hordes of students pressing in on her.

Hermione took her place at the Gryffindor table beside Ginny. Dean had returned for his seventh year after missing the last year in hiding and Hermione, though they'd never been very close, greeted him with a large smile.

"Hermione! Surprise' to see you! How are you?" Dean greeted her warmly, glancing distractedly up at the gaggle of first years as they made their way up for the sorting.

"Good, just decided at the last minute to come for the year. I was going to do it through correspondence but - " she finished with a shrug and felt the wattage on her smile dim slightly. Dean didn't seem to notice; he smiled at her and then was called away by someone at the Ravenclaw table. She remembered with a terrible drop in her stomach that Dean had been snatched with them and had been at the manor that horrible day. Hermione looked away from him quickly, down the table and noticed Dennis Creevey sitting with a handful of the other Gryffindor's his age; Wilke Parks, Yasmin Lightly, Holly Davis, and Barrett Bing. Dennis looked subdued and Hermione frowned, remembering Colin.

Another familiar face stuck out at Hermione: Tabitha Sharp. Her sisters Scarlet and Kitty had been abducted and never seen again the last year. They were both presumed dead, leaving Tabitha, the middle sister, alone. Scarlet had been a Ravenclaw and Kitty would have been a first year next year…

She remembered suddenly that Neville had joined the teaching staff for the year. She wheeled around to look at Neville in his teaching robes and watched him laugh and talk to Professor Sprout for a long moment. How much had changed in the last two years for all of them, she wondered.

After a bit, Professor McGonagall stood and delivered the sad but necessary speech welcoming those that had returned, encouraging those that were new, and remembering those they had lost. Hermione let a few tears fall during McGonagall's speech but had trouble deciphering which were for grieving for those they'd lost and which were for herself and Ron. McGonagall introduced a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as Orion Renoir. Even in her heartbroken stupor, Hermione thought he was rather attractive. She hoped that this one actually stuck around longer than a year. The sorting of the first years began quickly and Hermione had tried to pay close attention to remember them. Though she wouldn't be Head Girl – that honor resided with a quiet Ravenclaw with lank brown hair – she was still afforded the honor of being called a prefect. She wanted to make sure that on her rounds she would be able to remember those that were new. The Sorting Hat began its obligatory song and Hermione studied her hands while it sang gruffly:

"Brave Gryffindor, bright Ravenclaw

cunning Slytherin, loyal Hufflepuff

They comprise one school, all.

In the face of darkness, together they stand

And together, they fall.

The final Battle of Hogwarts did defeat the Dark Lord,

The students of Hogwarts stood together, tall.

No student here was too inexperienced,

No student here too small

To face their death and fight for life,

Whichever fate was to befall.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Once engulfed in a deadly brawl,

Was restored to its proper glory

For the learning and safety of all.

The divisions in these houses, four

Amount to nothing at the granite wall.

So go you where your heart must go

But remember this one call:

The house to which you belong is mighty

But Hogwarts is the sum of them all."

A smattering of applause broke out for the Sorting Hat's song and Hermione along with many others in the Great Hall wiped a few tears away. And so began the list of names and houses.

"Edward Link," called out Professor McGonagall. The Sorting Hat answered quickly, "Slytherin." Slytherin for the first one out of the gate then, Hermione thought wryly. She wondered if the house shake up with the way classes were to meet, as Kingsley had spoken with them about, would change the way that these first years were sorted.

"Philippa Scout," Professor McGonagall called. "Hufflepuff," was the response from the hat. A puffy little brunette waddled up to the table and struggled to get on the stool. Hermione made eye contact with Professor Slughorn who managed a smile in her direction and nodded his recognition of her. She dipped her head in response to him and then turned to survey the sorting again.

"Ralph Roscoe." …. "Hufflepuff!" The Sorting Hat sounded before the hat was all the way on Ralph's head. A redheaded boy with ruddy skin, Hermione mentally berated him and then herself for the cruelty of her thoughts. She blushed like everyone could hear her thoughts and resolved to be mentally kinder to her newest school mates.

"Clara Sanchel." …. "Gryffindor." Hermione looked up at her; Clara was a slight thing with blond ringlets and glasses. She looked shocked as the Gryffindor table erupted into cheering and welcomed her home. Hermione sent a small smile at Neville who she noticed was looking her way with a worried expression.

"Kayden Kitchings." …. "Ravenclaw." The girl looked like Hermione's friend Beatrice when they were little. Snub nose, peachy-blond hair, and a haughty expression. Beatrice had been a royal pain so Hermione prepared to find the same in this new Ravenclaw addition. Beatrice had stolen Hermione's bike for a week when they were seven and then returned it, covered in scuff marks that evidently no one had put there for Beatrice denied the defiling of the bike every time Hermione asked.

"Bailey Harper" . . . "Slytherin." Hermione noticed Bailey looking almost horrified over her shoulder at the Sorting Hat as she moved to take her seat at her new table. Hermione made a mental note to check in on Miss Harper a couple weeks into the year.

"Carter Lucas." … "Hufflepuff." He looked like one of the Beach Boys pictures her mum had kept from her days as an enormous Beach Boys fan. He was tan with blond curly hair and a good-natured expression. He'd get on well, Hermione decided.

"Viola Patridge." … "Gryffindor." Hermione was irrevocably reminded of Pansy Parkinson and how she looked at eleven, she only hoped that Viola's personality was more suitable.

"Stella Evans." … "Gryffindor." Evans? The name set off bells for Hermione. Did Harry's mum have any other magical - no, his mum was muggle-born. Hermione shook her head to clear it and spent the rest of the name ceremony picking the peeling nail polish off of her left hand and only looking up when she heard 'Gryffindor'.

"Tristan Parker." …. "Slytherin."

"Quinn Nalty." …. "Ravenclaw."

"Joshua Winters." … "Gryffindor." Joshua made his way off of the stool and walked to an open seat at their table. He was skinny and small and reminded her of Harry in a way that made her chest constrict painfully.

"Evangeline Finn." … "Ravenclaw."

"Sebastian Targarian." … "Slytherin."

"Arianna Hunter." … "Hufflepuff."

"Catherine Carty." … "Hufflepuff."

"Lydia Roberts." …. "Gryffindor."

"Julia Holden." …. "Slytherin."

"Dominic Miles." …. "Hufflepuff."

"John Charles." …. "Gryffindor." Hermione glanced up and hung her head right back down, brown hair.

"Jacob Riley." …. "Ravenclaw."

"Brianna Ushee." …. "Ravenclaw."

"Taryn Foshee." …. "Slytherin."

"Pandora Thompson." …. "Gryffindor." The small black girl smiled with perfect white teeth that stood out beautifully against her dark skin. She looked so delighted with her sorting that Hermione smiled at her down the table.

"Lauri Wolfe." …. "Gryffindor." A scowling boy dragged his feet as he shuffled to the Gryffindor table. She had never seen anyone displeased to be sorted into Gryffindor before, it was jarring.

"Tyler Semmes." …. "Slytherin."

"Marshall Oherrey." …. "Gryffindor." Hermione saw a huge boy – well, huge for eleven – make his way over to the table and Hermione could hear in her head what Ron and Harry would be saying right now about Quidditch. She felt her eyes sting and bit and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes briefly to squash the feeling.

"Gideon Hithe." …. "Hufflepuff."

"Brian McClellan." …. "Ravenclaw."

"Bran Fongger." …. "Gryffindor." A boy about her height joined the Gryffindor table and the sorting was concluded. Of course, she was short but it always stung to see eleven year olds that could stand taller than her.

The food appeared soon after the completion of the sorting of the first years.

"Blimey that wasn't a lot of first years, wannit?" Dean asked the table at large around a chunk of potato in his mouth.

Hermione hummed her assent and listened to a few of the other conversations around the table. A few people asked her questions about the previous year but Ginny, reliably, fended them off or deflected their questions. The dull roar of the Great Hall was beginning to give Hermione a headache when finally the desserts appeared. They were so close and then she'd just get to sleep and drift away into peaceful oblivion and not have to think anymore. The pudding on Hermione's plate was still untouched when she and Ginny turned and left the table in the group of Gryffindors.

Through the portrait of the Fat Lady who issued Hermione a huge, "Welcome back!", through the common room, up the girl's dorm stairs. Hermione shrugged off her clothes until she was just in her shirt and panties and climbed into the bed with the lights still on and used her wand to close the curtains around her, blocking the rest of the room from view. She put her wand under her pillow and let the tears that had been threatening to fall to finally flow unrestrained. Hermione cried silently while she listened to her roommates discuss the new year – who had returned, who hadn't, classes. She felt the salty tears cut paths down her face even while her roommates got ready for bed noisily, while they turned out the light, while their breathing deepened with sleep. Finally, after only Merlin knew how long, Hermione found sleep.

* * *

_She fell hard onto the marble floor at Malfoy Manor, tensing every muscle in her body and trying not to let out the scream of pain that longed to tumble from her as she was tortured. When she was released from that casting of the curse, she gasped roughly and she listened for the call of 'HERMIONE' that she knew would come from the dungeons….Only as she waited for it, she was met with a deafening silence. He didn't care…He wasn't calling her name… _

"_CRUCIO!" _

_Hermione was so shocked that Ron wasn't calling her name when he always had before that she wasn't prepared for that curse. She screamed from a place that was deep in her chest with a cry so raw that her throat felt like it was burning and scarring over. She screamed until she had no more air to force out of her lungs. Then as she gasped and tried to catch her breath, she was blessedly released from the curse. _

_She opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by the forms of Bellatrix, Greyback, the Malfoys, and then Ron was standing there in the corner, just watching with his arms crossed over his chest. She tried to call out to him but found that the word wouldn't form in her mouth. She could make her mouth move to shape the word but the sound wouldn't come…Why couldn't she say his name?_

"_CRUCIO! THIS IS WHAT MUDBLOODS GET, YOU FILTHY WHORE!" Bellatrix shrieked at her._

_Hermione screamed again, louder than the time before and felt Greyback move to her side, dropping to his knees and holding her arm roughly. Bellatrix kneeled beside her, grabbing her arm and carving the word that Hermione knew so well into the soft flesh of her arm. She swallowed huge gulps of air and twisted her neck to look at Ron's cold expression. His detached countenance was worse than any curse Bellatrix threw at her and Hermione screamed again, hearing the distortion and tearing of her soul through the excruciating scream. As Bellatrix marred her skin forever Greyback ran his free hand down the length of Hermione's body and Hermione shuddered as Bellatrix pressed the knife against her arm again and again._

_Hermione let out another guttural scream, coiling her arms toward her to try to free them, kicking her legs out helplessly, and shaking her head side to side. _

"_Hermione! HERMIONE!" Hermione almost quit screaming when she finally heard Ron's voice but the pain in her arm just seemed to intensify and she couldn't shake Greyback off of her arm. Panicked, she threw herself around as hard as she could, thrashing around to shake Greyback's grip off of her. She hit something soft and increased her efforts to dislodge her torturers._

* * *

"HERMIONE! WAKE UP!" Wake up? Wake up… Hermione felt the pain start to melt away and the grip on her arms loosen a bit. She stopped screaming and opened her eyes to find Ginny standing over her on her left with her eyes wild and mouth gaping open with Professor McGonagall on her right.

Hermione sat up as they released their grips on her arms and drew in deep breaths, trying to still her racing heart. She looked Professor McGonagall in the eye and noticed the grim set of her mouth and the furrowed brow just under her night cap.

"Miss Granger, do you need to see Madame Pomfrey?" The professor asked her softly with her voice wavering dynamically as Ginny shooed the girls surrounding Hermione's bed away. Hermione felt a blush creep up her neck and face, not all the girls were seventh years so that meant other girls had woken up and come into the room. She looked down at the crimson coverlet on the bed.

"No, ma'am. I'm sorry for the - " Hermione said thickly, swallowing hard.

"No, Miss Granger – Hermione, do not apologize. Should you need Dreamless Sleep, you have my permission to go to Madame Pomfrey at any time," Professor McGonagall said, swiping away what appeared to be a tear and summoning a slip of paper and a quill and writing a quick note excusing Hermione from breaking curfew. She handed the note to Hermione and began to walk away when she turned with her mouth open as if to ask Hermione something. Thinking better of it, McGonagall shook her head, set her jaw, and turned to leave the room in a flurry of tartan night robes. When Professor McGonagall had left them, Ginny reappeared at the side of Hermione's bed.

"Is she ok?" A voice asked softly from somewhere to Hermione's right. Hermione recognized it as Laken Tolbert, a sweet but quiet girl that Hermione had rarely spoken to.

"Yeah, she's fine," Ginny turned to address the disembodied voice in the dark and then turned back to look down at Hermione. "Budge over Hermione," Ginny commanded, flipping down Hermione's bedcovers and sliding in beside her. "Ron usually sleeps with you?" Ginny asked in a whisper.

Hermione nodded, rubbing at her eyes and feeling new, stinging tears grow behind her eyelids as she squeezed them shut.

"Well, you've swapped that asshole Weasley for a different one – not an asshole just a different Weasley. You can't snog me but I'll stay in here with you tonight, yeah?" Ginny tried to inject a bit of humor in her voice but Hermione could hear her voice shaking and felt bad for giving the girls in the dorm a fright. Hermione nodded again against Ginny's shoulder as Ginny scooted in against Hermione, pressing her stomach into Hermione's side and bringing an arm around Hermione's waist. Hermione found the pressure reassuring and if she ignored the soft chest against her arm and the long hair and the fact that she smelled flowers instead of Ron, she thought maybe she could go to sleep.

The tears that had been building behind her eyelids fell and slid down from the corners of Hermione's eyes into the hair at her temples, eventually slipping into her ears, making her ears wet and uncomfortable. Ginny tried her best to whisper, "shhh" and "it's alright" and other meaningless platitudes as Hermione cried until she had no tears left to cry. An eternity later, her burning eyes closed against the dark and Hermione slept beside the wrong Weasley.


	34. A Normal Raid and Bluebell Flames

_. . . Chapter 34_

_. . . A Normal Raid and Bluebell Flames . . . _

* * *

Ron woke up to a large black owl tapping on a window downstairs and recognized it on sight as the owl his dad used for work and sometimes his mum stole for personal family letters.

"Hey, Brutus, hold on," he brought the owl inside and it perched on the arm of the couch, digging its talons into the fabric and popping through the woven layer with an audible snap. "Damn it all, you stupid bird - " he pulled the letter off of the owl's leg and tossed it a treat they kept in a jar on the end table. The bird waited patiently for him to read the message, crunching on the treat.

_Ronald – _

_Hermione got on the train yesterday to go to Hogwarts and wouldn't hardly look at me. You best tell me exactly what you've done. You and Harry skipped our dinner last night with hardly any notice which I absolutely DID NOT appreciate. Write immediately or Floo here at once and explain yourself!_

_Mum_

Since Harry and Ron had discovered her room empty this was what he had been afraid of. She'd left him. He felt like someone had reached in and pulled his heart out through his chest. For a long minute he couldn't breathe and felt sick. He _accioed_ a quill and parchment and paused with his quill tip hovering over the letter… A large drip of ink off of the indecisive quill was the first mark on the paper.

_Mum – _

_We talked about safety and Hermione decided to go to Hogwarts for the year. Harry and I were tired last night. She probably was distracted. Sorry about dinner. Maybe this weekend._

_R_

He read his note back over. It wasn't a lie exactly but it made it sound less like a fight and more like a discussion. It also left out that he had been the one to stupidly suggest the idea of Hogwarts. Omission wasn't exactly lying. His cheeks burned and his throat got that itchy feeling right that always immediately preceded tears. He swallowed the feeling and rolled the letter around Brutus' leg, prodding the bird with a finger to get it to dislodge its talons and fly off toward the Burrow.

He knew that his dad had filled his mum in on their run in with Greyback outside their wards and that she would understand the safety part. He hoped that she didn't read between the lines and realize he had left things out of the conversation. In a bit he heard Harry's charm to wake himself up go off. At ten til eight o'clock, both had Disapparated with a pop from the back yard, leaving the house and yard empty for the day.

Back at their desks, Harry and Ron assumed their standard positions of slumping over their books until they were studied enough to gain more field time. Ron kept glancing up at the clocks in the department, dismayed each time that time was seemingly standing still. He just wanted to leave for the day but couldn't seem to explain to himself why. Around eleven o'clock, Ron took a break from studying and surreptitiously unfolded Harding's Daily Prophet copy.

On the front page was a picture of the severe woman that Ron recognized as Tarin LaFoe shaking hands with a proud looking Goblin. The headline read, "Landmark Legislation for Goblin Rights Approved." The picture showed them shaking hands, LaFoe smiled for the cameras and the Goblin turned his neck slowly to survey the crowd. Ron scanned the article for the name he hoped had been included and sure enough her name was listed as a key contributor, "_Hermione Granger_". He stopped reading and just stared at her name.

A memo flew and hit him squarely on the forehead. "Oi!" he snatched it out of the air, feeling embarrassed. After glancing around and realizing no one had seen – thank Merlin – he unfolded it and recognized his dad's handwriting. It was a day for notes, evidently.

_Ron, Harry, I requested you both for a raid. Thought you could both use a bit of field time in a more normal and less dangerous raid. Harding and Parnell agree. Meet at the elevators at one o'clock. Shouldn't take long._

_Dad_

Ron passed the note down to Harry who read it and nodded over at Ron. They ordered a sandwich each from the sandwich cart that made its rounds through the Ministry around the lunch hour. Ron tore the crust off of it but couldn't force more than a few bites down. At one, the two of them met his father at the lifts and piled in for their first raid with the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects.

On the way out of the Ministry toward the Apparation point, Arthur Weasley explained the raid to the both of them.

"Really, 'raid' makes it sound a lot more exciting than it is. Someone since the end of the war had been manufacturing false single location Portkeys," his dad paused, seeing Harry open his mouth to ask. "Single-location Portkeys are used by mostly kids that are too young to use magic, they are sometimes things like a locket or a little silver ring and you have to grab it and say 'portus' and it takes you to one place – usually home – that the Portkey is programmed to. Now that they aren't so necessary, or so think the manufacturers, these fakes we're going to see after work the first two, maybe three, times and then will progressively weaken. They start dropping you farther and farther from home. It's a really dangerous situation. I've seen kids as young as four with these things on."

Ron knew what they were but none of the Weasleys had ever had one. They were mostly for families where both parents work so the kids were at home or with other guardians a lot. They might get one for Teddy one day, Ron thought suddenly. The thought of Teddy made him think of Hermione holding him and smiling. He felt suddenly winded.

Dad put a hand on each of their shoulders and Disapparated with them, materializing on a grassy walk up to a large wooden building.

"This is where they make them. Usually a very respectable company, but it seems their quality has dropped off now for some reason. We'll just go in and speak with the quality control wizard and make sure he's aware, confiscate a batch of the Portkeys, take them back to the Ministry, and if we find that they don't work then we'll go back to the manufacturer and see if he has corrected it. If not, he'll be fined and maybe worse. Personally, I think even these Single-Location Portkeys should be under the Department of Magical Transportation but that's just me."

He stopped talking as he reached a rickety door with the name plate, Tristle's Transportation Trinkets. He knocked three times and called, "Arthur Weasley of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Got a couple Aurors-In-Training here as well. May we come inside and ask a couple questions?"

No one came to the door, instead the triangular, vertical bush to the right of the door grew a mouth and spoke to them.

"Who are you trying to see?" the bush had a grouchy voice, like gravel being shaken around inside a can.

"Oh, Judson Tristle, please," dad said pleasantly to the shrubbery.

"Just a moment," the plant's mouth blended back in to the leaves and in a moment, the door was opened by a hunched old man with dark skin and goggles on.

"Yes?" the man Ron assumed to be Judson Tristle removed his goggles. His skin wasn't dark but was dirty, the goggles left white circles on his face like a raccoon.

"We were hoping to speak with you just a bit about the Single-Location Porkeys you've been selling in the last month."

Judson Tristle turned out to be horrified at his mistakes. Ron was glad that his dad was nice about it. They took a sample box that was about to go out and dad had gently told the man he might want to hire some help. Ron rather agreed, the man looked almost as old as Aunt Muriel. It wouldn't hurt to have another set of eyes checking things over. They left within an hour of arriving, turning down Tristle's offers of tea and cakes as they went.

When they had Apparated back to the Ministry, dad readjusted the box of faulty items and thanked them for accompanying him. He'd said as they got off the lifts and were parting to go their respective departments, "hopefully soon, you will both be going on raids like that more often than you go off hunting Death Eaters at large." Hopefully soon, indeed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to soak in all the necessary information about negotiation tactics when there was a hostage situation and trying not to think about Hermione at Hogwarts without him. Hermione in that uniform walking down the halls. People stopping her to talk about where she'd been over the last year and about how she was famous and on Chocolate Frog cards now. Hermione curled in her favorite chair in the common room. Five o'clock rolled around and the Thursday workday ended. Harry was the one to come to Ron's desk that day. He'd been particularly quiet since Ron had told him about the letter from his mum. Ron knew he was itching to say 'told you so' but was holding himself back. He was a good friend.

"Ready to go?" Harry asked from behind him. Ron turned around in his chair and faced Harry who had his book tucked under one arm.

"Um, yeah." He stood and gathered his book as well.

They walked side by side to the elevators. While they waited for it to come to them, Harry broke the silence, "You going to write again tonight?"

"Maybe," he'd thought about it during the day, "if she went, though…I don't know. . . Maybe." Harry nodded at him silently. In a few short minutes they were walking into their cool house – muggle air-conditioning was really something.

"I was gonna make breakfast for dinner unless you had another plan," Harry said, dropping his robe over the back of the sofa.

"Nope, sounds good," he replied, kicking his trainers off and watching them bounce off of one of the walls in the living room, leaving scuffs about a foot off of the ground. He thought about removing them but decided to leave them; Hermione was really the only one who was bothered by that kind of thing. Ron went upstairs to change out of his jeans into some shorts. Once in his room, he shut his door and opened the drawer that contained his Deluminator. He clicked it a couple times, releasing the bright light of the street lamp back to its original spot. One ball of light that couldn't find an outlet just hung in the air like a tiny sun. He clicked and unclicked the Deluminator, watching it blow in and out of the device. He was starting to hurt his eyes that were struggling to keep up with the changing light when he heard Harry downstairs.

"Oh holy lord, if he doesn't quit I swear to God, I'm chopping his hand off," Harry muttered, clearly not intending to be heard.

Ron let the light come back into and stay in the Deluminator and smirked in the normal evening light. When the smell of bacon and eggs were overwhelming, Ron left his room and met Harry in the kitchen.

"Have fun up there did you?" Harry asked him.

"Not particularly. Sorry about the Deluminator. Habit," he offered, moving to open their cabinet and get two plates out. Harry was pouring water into one glass.

"Water, milk, Hog's Head or wine?"

Ron thought for a moment. "Water, please."

" 'k." Harry put two glasses of water at the table: one at the head of the table and one to the right of that.

Ron served his plate and plopped into the seat at the head of the table, facing the front of the house.

"This is amazing, Harry. You should've been a cook instead of an Auror," Ron chuckled a bit.

"Well, it's just breakfast. Nothing special. I cooked a bit at the Dursley's house," he said looking down at his plate.

"Blimey! I completely forgot about them! I haven't asked after them all summer," he felt like a complete ass.

"No, no, it's fine. Um, I wrote Dudley once to make sure they were alright. They were. A bit shell shocked from hiding out with Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle taking turns babysitting them but they're fine. When I wrote Dudley, it was late June. He said that Hestia and Dedalus had taken them back to their house and explained a bit to them that they still needed to be cautious the week after the Final Battle," Harry stopped for a moment, shoving egg around his plate, "They probably will just go on about life as normal. I haven't written Dudley back since then and he hasn't written me either. I gave him our muggle mailing address but, you know…"

Ron knew that Harry didn't much care for the Dursleys but for a brief moment Ron wondered what it would be like if the only family you had left was really just a group of unpleasant stranger-types.

"Speaking of writing…erm have you written her already?" Harry gently broached the subject of Hermione as they finished their meals.

"No, I don't know what exactly I'd say differently that I haven't already said," Ron said, instantly nauseous he pushed back his plate and drained the rest of his water.

"Do you think she'd come back?" Harry asked but didn't look up to meet Ron's eye.

Ron frowned and studied his empty glass. "I don't know, I wish but - "

"Well, maybe you could go there and try to talk to her then and get her to come back."

"Maybe, I just think if she really wanted to speak with me she would have written me…" he breathed out, feeling every wave of sadness that had hit him during the day roll back over him.

"What would you say if you had her right in front of you? Practice."

He narrowed his eyes at Harry and leaned back in his chair so that the front two legs hovered in the air. He grabbed the edge of the table for balance. "That I didn't think through what I was saying. That she's so much stronger than I am and than that ridiculous talk we had gave her credit for. That I love her and if she'd just agree to come back that I'd strengthen the wards with some help from Harding and not treat her like she was breakable or defenseless. That I was so blinded by worrying about her and trying to keep her safe that I pushed her awake like a bastard. And that I'd give anything - everything - if she'd just come back," his voice broke embarrassingly on the last word.

"I came back," a wavering voice came from behind him followed by a small sniff. Ron let the legs of the chair hit the wood floor with an ear splitting slap.

Ron turned his head so quickly that it nearly gave him whiplash. Hermione had her trunk levitated beside her and that devil-cat in one arm. She had tears running down her cheeks but had on a toothy smile just the same. In just a few strides on his long legs he was standing before her.

"I'm sorry," they both started at once and he grinned at her while she sniffed again.

"I'm sorry for leaving," she said, putting the cat down. God, she'd never looked so beautiful.

"I'm sorry I told you to leave," he wiped a couple of her tears away with his fingers. His stomach churned with the knowledge that he'd been the one to make her cry.

"We are idiots," Hermione laughed through her tear-wet lips.

He furrowed his brows and shook his head slightly to let her know he didn't follow.

"We are idiots because you left and hated it and came back. Now I left and hated it and came back. Can we just agree that from now on, nobody leaves?" she bit her lip and looked up at him.

"Agreed," he said, smiling and feeling his eyes burn a bit as well.

She extended her hand to shake on their deal but then retracted it quickly, "And don't ever ask me to leave again and I won't either?" He nodded. She put her hand back out for him to shake. Then, like business partners instead of best friends and lovers, they shook hands in the archway leading into the kitchen.

"Agreed!" added Harry enthusiastically from behind Ron as he stood and put their plates away.

Ron watched Hermione lean around him and smile at Harry. She looked gorgeous, even with her eyes a bit puffy from tears. He heard Harry leave the room and in a moment his feet fell audibly on the stairs.

"I couldn't be away from you," Hermione whispered with her smile gone. He studied the straight set of her mouth and the nervous way her eyes flicked over his face as if she was trying to read him like a book.

"I couldn't, either," he admitted, stepping closer to her. He blushed and figured he may as well admit it because she was about to see her unmade bed for herself. "I might have slept in your room the first two nights…."

The corners of her mouth turned up, "That's alright." She stepped so that her head was just under his and pressed herself to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"We are such idiots," Ron whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head and bringing both arms around her. His grip on her crushed her harder against his chest and he felt her soft breasts press against stomach. She laughed in concurrence before backing her head away to look up at him.

"Kiss me," she commanded lightly and he felt his body start to respond to her before he leaned down and claimed her lips with his. He bent his knees and picked her up with his arms still enveloping her. Her arms let go from their position on his back and moved to help him hold her up by coming to fold around his neck and shoulders. Her lips pressed hard on his and he opened his mouth slightly against the pressure. She lightly explored his mouth with her tongue until it retreated and she let her teeth catch his bottom lip. Desire shot straight through him and he moved one of his arms to the back of one of her small legs, to encourage her legs to wrap around him to help hold her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he moved both hands to her bum to hold her up and against him. Somewhere in the kiss, Hermione had brought one hand to the back of his head, urging him to plunder her mouth and he gladly complied. The way they pressed together, her pressure on his waist, his hands on her: all of it combined into a heat he didn't think they'd ever climbed to before.

After a few minutes, even as light as she was, his arms got tired and he could feel her arms drooping. He turned and pressed her gently against the wall that led into the kitchen for the extra traction. She moaned against his mouth with a renewed ardor and then tried to say something after a minute or more. He released her mouth and she looked at him breathing heavily with slightly swollen lips. Ron looked down at her with her smoky brown eyes and silently asked the question that was at the front of his mind.

She bit her lip and smiled a bit shyly at him. "Take me to bed."

Ron lifted her off of the wall, leaning his head to the side so he could see around her. Inside her room, he let her down to the floor and he turned to shut the door. He locked, warded, and silenced it all with his wand. When he turned back around, Hermione had conjured a couple of her blue flames in jars and put both on one of her bedside tables. Hermione nodded at the light switch and Ron turned if off without taking his eyes off of her. He was glad she had created the flames so that he could see her in the darkened room.

He walked to her slowly, taking every moment of this in. Hermione stepped to him and brought her hands to his sides, she dragged her fingers down tortuously and brought them under his shirt grazing his skin. He let her start easing his shirt up, taking the edges from her and taking it over his head. He leaned down and brought their lips together, backing her up until he felt her bump against the side of the bed. Ron grabbed Hermione's shirt in both hands and Hermione raised her arms to help him undress her. He brought his hand to her shoulder, dragging it down across one breast, her flat stomach and then the button of her jeans. He fumbled with the button and managed to unhook it after a couple tries. The zipper was next and then Ron put his hands on her hips, dragging her jeans down her flared hips and down her legs. He helped her step out of them and then wrapped one arm around her and used the other to help him brace against the bed. He laid her down, sideways on the mattress, and kissed her hard.

He stood back up and slid his jeans off, his belt hit hard on the floor and he was glad he'd remembered to silence the room. He leaned over her and brought both his hands to her beautiful body, feeling every inch of her he could before they jumped off of this cliff. He maneuvered one arm behind her and unclasped her bra with his practiced flick of his fingers. She had both her hands at the top of his boxers. He knew they were cutting the foreplay a bit short but in one way the entire summer, the entire last five years had been foreplay for them. In a minute they were both undressed and he was gently moving her so that she was laying with her head on a pillow instead of across the bed sideways. He noticed when he took a breath from kissing her that she was shaking. He frowned slightly at her, worried.

"You're shaking," he whispered at her, looking down at her face which glowed a bit in the blue flame light from the bedside table.

"Yeah, it's ok - "

"Hermione we don't have to…"

"No! I want to, I'm just nervous," she whispered. She sounded nervous but when he looked at her she smiled. "Please, I want to."

"It might hurt," he said and she smiled and nodded, "I'll try not to hurt you, tell me if you want me to stop ok?"

"Ok."

Their heavy breathing intertwined in the room.

"Hermione, I love you," he said trailing a hand down her body and finding her ready with his fingers.

"I love you Ron," she whispered as he lined their bodies up.

He pushed into her slowly, trying to be gentle but at the same time he was dizzy with the feel of her around him. Hermione had both of her hands on his waist and helped him pace the first thrust into her. In a moment, she tightened her hands and breathed out heavily. He stilled.

"Are you ok?" Merlin, he'd hurt her.

"Yeah, just…" she pursed her lips and blew a breath out, "give me a second."

He leaned down to kiss her cheek and then moved to her ear and whispered against it, "I'm sorry, love. Let me know- "

"Ok, I'm ok," she whispered and kissed him and he moved in her again, as gently as he could with his straining concentration.

They moved together. He delighted in every inch of her, the feel of her, every small noise she made, every sigh, the kisses she planted at the base of his neck, everything was raw and brand new. Hermione tilted her hips against his and gasped at the feel. Ron didn't have to ask her to know that it was a different kind of gasp. He tried to hit that same spot, over and over, gritting his teeth as she gasped and moaned each time. When he didn't think he could hang on any longer, Hermione made a familiar cry and Ron felt her tighten on him. Her fingers clutched at his back and shoulders as she arched up and came under him. He ground his teeth together and thrust into her once more, twice more and then growled his own release, leaning to bury his face in her hair as he thrust into her one final time. They lay like that for a long time, with her arms around him and him on his side with his head on her small shoulder, unaware of and secluded from everything except each other.

"I've wondered what that would be like for so long," he chuckled in the dark as she extinguished the blue flames. He heard her laugh lightly, getting back into bed. He was glad she hadn't put any clothes on.

"Live up to your expectations?" she asked but he could hear her teasing smile through her voice as she leaned against his side from chest to hip.

"I'll say. Much better actually," he pulled her head onto his chest and tilted her chin up to kiss her soundly. Then he remembered that pained look she had. "Did I hurt you?"

"It hurt a little," she breathed, "not as much as I thought it would." That made him feel slightly better. He captured her lips with his own one more time that night.

"I love you so much," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you too, so much," she smiled against his mouth before settling against his chest for the night.


	35. Occlumency and Reviewing Memories

_. . . Chapter 35_

_. . . Occlumency and Reviewing Memories . . . _

* * *

"Alright, ready?" he asked her and she nodded back. He stared into her eyes and she felt tingly and nervous. "_Legilimens!" _

_Singing at her sixth birthday party, a younger Hermione blew out the candles. Mum asked, "what'd you wish for, Hermione?" Hermione answered, "To be able to fly!" Mum laughed. _

_Riding in her parents car, Hermione was crying in the back seat. "I don't want to go, Mummy." Mum turned around to face her from the front seat. "They're all so mean to me," Hermione wailed. _

_Hermione was standing hesitantly in knee-deep water at the beach. Dad turned around from where he stood at waist height. "Come in farther, Hermione! I've got you!" "What about sharks?" "Better watch out for you, shouldn't they?" Dad laughed and she waded deeper._

_Hermione stood in Divination, knocking over the crystal ball and stomping out of the room._

Hermione tried to block anything, construct a wall, grab onto Ron's presence in her head. None of the techniques she'd read about worked.

_She gathered a bundle of bluebells, humming happily in the Forest of Dean the summer before fifth year. "Hermione? Are those bluebells?" dad asked coming out from behind a tree. She nodded and raised the bundle, turning the little bouquet in the splashes of sunlight. "They're my favorite." _

_"Hermione, I'm the Headmaster of a school. . . Of a very special school, for people like you," Dumbledore explained to Hermione and her parents in their living room. "What do you mean 'people like me'?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Well have you ever made anything happen? Something that you couldn't explain?" Dumbledore asked._

_A very young Hermione was reading on her back in the living room holding a Winnie-the-Pooh picture book over her head. "Hermione, darling, will you cut the TV off?" Hermione sat up, blinked at the TV and the TV turned off. Hermione's jaw dropped open. _

_"Hey, look it's the brainiac!" a boy teased Hermione as she sat on a tree stump in the school yard. "What're you reading?" The boy snatched the book from her and Hermione stood up, furious. Fallen leaves on the ground flew up in the air and engulfed the bully in a flurry of red, brown, and orange. _

_"Holy Cricket! You're Harry Potter! I'm Hermione Granger and you are?" Hermione asked Ron. "Um, Ron Weasley," Ron answered with his mouth full of candy. She scowled at him and the candy littering the compartment. "Pleasure. You two better change into your robes, I expect we'll be arriving soon." She left the compartment and turned back. "You've got dirt on your nose by the way. Did you know? Just there?"_

Ron severed the connection, laughing hard. "Geez, 'Mione, I'd forgotten all about that!" Ron guffawed at her and bent over clutching his stomach. "We both thought you were completely mental!"

Harry looked up at them from the grass where he held Teddy, sitting in the shade of the house and watching them practice. "What? What's so funny?"

Ron gasped, "Meeting Hermione for the first time! The train!" His laughter was contagious and Hermione found herself laughing with him.

"Shut it, I was eleven!" she said, trying to sound cross. Harry grinned.

"I remember that. Bossy weren't you?" Harry said up at them."Remember what you said then, Ron? 'Mental, that one' or something like that?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron who was wiping a tear away and grinning. He coughed once loudly and straightened his face out as best he could.

"Well, that didn't work, obviously," she said, getting them back on track. "Maybe I'll try it on you. The book said to visualize a wall or bridge or something - something I'll have trouble crossing." Ron nodded at her, suddenly serious. "Ok, ready?" He nodded again and she studied his blue eyes. _"__Legilimens!"_

_Ron was nervously walking up to the hospital wing. He rounded the corner and saw Hermione petrified on the bed. "I'm back today, Hermione. Brought you transfiguration homework today." He pulled out his homework and sat down to do his homework by her bed._

_"Dad?" A younger Ron called out. "Here, son," Arthur Weasley's voice filtered through shelves of muggle items. "What's that?" "A fellytone, to call Harry and Hermione!" Ron shuffled his feet nervously. Later, he looked at the two numbers his friends had given him and called Harry's. _

_"Bill, don't go!" a tiny Ron was crying looking up at Bill. "I've got to, Ron, it is fourth year at Hogwarts," Bill leaned down to pick Ron up. "I'll be back at Christmas, bring you a cool toy or something?" Ron's face lit up and he stopped crying. "Promise?" "I promise." _

_Ron was glaring after Hermione in her school uniform as she walked away in a corridor, he turned away muttering "Ruddy Pumpkinhead, Victor." _

Hermione felt something push against her vision, like a veil being thrown over it.

_Hermione was rushing toward an angry Ron in her Yule Ball dress. __"The next time there's a Ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" Ron looked at her like she was mad. "That's completely off the point!"_

_Hermione was standing with her back turned toward him in her black dress from the ball a few months ago. The exposed skin of her back faced him. Ron gasped when he saw her standing there. Hermione fixed his tie and Ron held his breath. _

_Ron rushed toward the fallen debris of the chandelier. "Hermione, please be ok! Wingardium Leviosa!" The chandelier rose off of her and was flung to the side. Ron rushed to her, glass and blood dotted the back of her jumper. Ron gathered her in his arms on the floor and dragged her into his lap and all noise in the room seemed to disappear. "Breathe!" he whispered frantically, putting his ear to her chest while chaos - Dobby and Harry and stunning spells - happened around them. "Oh, thank God!" Ron choked on a sob and stood with her limp in his arms. "Ron, catch - and GO!" Harry threw Ron a wand. _

Hermione broke the connection, sensing Ron needed a break. Ron looked a bit angry and a bit nervous. "Sorry, Ron, I - "

"S'alright, just give me a minute," Ron frowned and looked down to study the grass. Hermione nodded and glanced at Harry who looked tense and shuffled Teddy in his arms. Ron coughed and drew Hermione's attention.

"Why did Harding tell you two that you needed to work on this?" Hermione asked and Ron looked up at her and grimaced.

"The night a while ago, when we helped them try to track Greyback and find Erasmus - " Ron broke off and studied her face with a worried expression. Ron and Harry had received word that Erasmus Lanning had been found dead in the Otter River, downstream of Ottery St. Catchpole. Hermione had been too shocked to cry when they'd told her. He was being replaced with someone named Tallison House. The Auror Department decided that the three of them would be safer if Tallison never approached the house like Erasmus had done. "They said that we were too. . . too emotional, too worried," he looked embarrassed to admit it. "Harding said Occlumency would help us in the field."

"Oh," she wished she hadn't asked, now she couldn't think about anything else. He looked unfocused. "Do you want to - "

"Yeah, you'll try next. Ready?" He asked her and she nodded, building a brick wall in her mind. "_Legilimens!"_

_Hermione was outside the fence to speak to Erasmus. He grinned a bloody smile at her and his bloody hands swung into view. Hermione threw dirt up around them and Apparated away. _

_Hermione was leaving the grocery store and Erasmus was following her. She ran into the alley and Disapparated._

_A dream: Hermione was standing in the kitchen and the man across the street turned into Greyback as she watched. _

_Greyback leaned over her at Malfoy Manor as she screamed, petrified to the spot. __"Pretty, I'm next. And the scars I'll give you? You won't be so pretty for long." Greyback leaned over her face - _

The connection severed with such a strong pull that Hermione staggered forward with it.

"God, Ron, do that more gently!" she brought a hand to the newly formed knot in her stomach.

"You alright?" Harry asked, looking up at them from the shade. Hermione nodded and Ron did as well.

"Your turn, Ron," Hermione raised her wand. Exhausting work, Occlumency was. He dipped his head at her and gritted his teeth. "_Legilimens!" _

_Ron was scrambling around, scratching at the walls of the basement at Malfoy Manor as screams echoed around him. "HERMIONE!" Frantic terror was palpable in the memory, coloring it with fear. "HERMIONE!" _

_Ron and Harry and Parnell stood beside Hermione as she screamed on the floor at Malfoy Manor. __"We found it - we found it - PLEASE!" __ Bellatrix stood over her. "__Crucio! Now I'm tired of the lying, we can do this one of two ways. You tell me, I kill you quickly. Or you don't tell me, I torture you until you can't remember who you are anymore and Greyback gets a new play thing to ravish and then feast on. Your choice, filthy scum. Tongue looser now?"_

Hermione screamed,_ "FINITE!"_ She closed her eyes and gasped, feeling her breath come and go in heaving wheezes.

"Hermione, I - "

"No," she gasped out. "No, you wouldn't do that." Her heart beat painfully. She couldn't look at him.

"Ron?" Harry sounded worried from the grass.

"Harry wouldn't. You did not - ," she couldn't catch her breath.

"Hermione," Ron said, his voice was soft and close.

Her eyes snapped open. "Why? Why would you want - ?"

"We didn't mean to," Ron said but she shook her head at him, unbelieving. "It was," he looked at Harry who stood up. "It was wrong, we thought - "

"The Manor?" Harry guessed correctly. She clutched a hand to her chest. They had. They had seen it.

"I was trying to protect you," she looked up at Ron who nodded solemnly at her, "both of you. It was awful! I didn't want - " she felt a rising sob bubble in her throat. "I didn't want you to see that."

"We're sorry, Hermione, we didn't. . . We shouldn't have watched it," Ron whispered. Haunted was the only word she could use to describe his expression.

"Oh! That's why you've had these dreams!" Hermione said with a dawning realization. "That's why you were so upset that he came here! You've watched this." She wanted to hit them both and comfort them both at the same time. Ron's face was remorseful, his eyes were pained. She chose comfort over inflicting more pain. "Oh, Ron." She turned to him and threw her arms around him. "I'm so sorry you saw that, I wanted to protect you from seeing it. To make sure that you didn't have to live with that!"

Ron's hand wound up in her hair, the other on her back. "Sorry we watched it," he whispered. "I wish I could take it back." She nearly choked on the implication. She'd been right to try to keep it from them. Her torture tortured him. She didn't know what else to say to him. "You're so strong, Hermione. I'm just - I'm not. I couldn't stand it, just watching. . ." his words were tiny against the top of her hair.

"Hey, it's," she leaned, wiping away one of her tears, to look up at him. "It's. . . well I wish you hadn't seen but I wish you'd told me sooner. I could've talked about it with you, helped your feelings about it."

Ron shook his head at her, "Harry and I thought you'd be mad so we didn't tell you," he said, reading her face for her reaction. She tried to keep her face calm. Of course she was mad. She glanced from Ron to Harry.

"Well, I'm fine. We came out fine from there," she lowered her hands to Ron's hands. He nodded at her but she could tell he wasn't relieved. "You got me through it, you know?" she whispered up at Ron and saw Harry turn toward the house. She almost told him to stay but made up her mind that this was something she'd handle with him separately later.

Ron looked at her incredulously. "Hermione, I couldn't get out of that basement! I - " his voice broke off.

"You did, Ron! I just watched you get out of the cellar and pull me out of there. You did that, Ron. You." She felt him jerk his hands out of hers almost violently. He ran both hands in his hair, gripping his hair roughly.

"UGH! Hermione, I dream about it all the time!" he confessed, almost shouting. "I've taken Dreamless Sleep every night since Greyback came to this house and spoke to you! Every time someone says 'Mudblood' all I can see is you on the floor screaming while that bitch carves into your arm! Every victim we find of Greyback's I picture as you! Every single time you twitch in your sleep, I wonder if you're being tortured in your dreams! Every one of your scars scares me to death because it was someone that caused you pain - some way I almost lost you! I _can't _lose you Hermione! Every breath you take - every moment of your life means _everything _to me. I just can't - " he hit his knees in the grass, hanging his head. Hermione stood stunned for a split second, processing everything he'd just said, before dropping to the ground beside him. She grabbed his face in her hands and forced him to meet her eyes. She swallowed when she saw that his eyes were collecting a wet film.

"Ron! You listen to me," she felt a tear slip from her eye but she didn't move a hand from his face to wipe it away. "The only reason I made it out of there is because of you."

He opened his mouth to argue and she cut over him. "You called my name. Over and over. You kept me from giving in. Ron, from the cellar - I heard you," Hermione struggled to keep her voice under control. "I heard you every time. And when I dream about it now - and I do, sometimes - the reason I know I can get through it in my dreams is because I hear you call out to me and then I wake up beside you." She smoothed a hand over his face. He must've shaved today, his skin was soft under her thumb.

Ron let a tear squeeze out from the corner of his eye. "Hermione, all I could think about was that she was hurting you. That I couldn't get to you. That you would lose . . . That she'd. . . That Greyback." Another tear fell.

Hermione realized that him cutting off his thoughts from her wasn't healthy. They were talking about all of this. Now. "Say it," she commanded.

"What?" he was stunned into not crying any more.

"Don't cut yourself off. Say what you were scared of," she felt her chest twist at his expression.

"I was scared I'd lose you," he supplied in a small voice.

"What else?" she prompted.

"Scared that Greyback," he cleared his throat and she nodded him forward. "Scared he'd rape you. Scared he'd kill you. Scared Bellatrix would kill you. Scared Bellatrix would torture you into not being YOU anymore." His voice got stronger and angrier as he blurted out the phrases.

"What else?" she realized she'd probably never get him to talk about this so freely again. He looked confused. "What are you scared of now?"

"That Greyback will take you from me. That you'll get hurt. That Fawe will harm you in any way. Terrified that you're a known Muggle-born: you're such a target for these people, Hermione! Scared that there are still so many Death Eaters out there that we don't even know about and you're a highly public figure. I fucking don't like that you're on the bleeding Chocolate Frog or your name pops up in the papers because then more people know what you look like and know who you are! Hermione, I can't keep you safe, I can do only so much," he raised his hand to create a tiny gap in his fingers. "Only keep you safe, this much, Hermione, and then the rest of the time?" He flailed an arm around in the air. "You're somewhere I can't be. Somewhere where all I can picture happening is every single one of the horrible things that happened to you and almost happened to you at that fucking manor!" His heavy panting breaths washed over her face and she sat there with her hands on his face, breathing just as heavily.

"Ron, no one is going to take me from you or you from me. You and Harry strengthened the wards this morning so the house is safer than ever. And sure, people know who I am but they also know I'm always with you and Harry - no one is going to single me out," she spoke as calmly and softly as she could in the gentle September breeze as the love of her life poured his heart out to her on the grass. "Ron, the Manor is over. You - I don't care what you say to argue this," she said to cut off his open mouth, " - you are the reason I got out. Your voice kept me grounded - kept me, _me_. You pulled me out of there, got me to Shell Cottage. You saved my life, Ron, and I'll never forget that." She meant every word and was glad that his eyebrows knitted together as he considered her words.

"That was the worst day of my life, Hermione," he whispered. Hermione felt the same way and nodded. "No, I don't think you understand, 'Mi." He brought his hands up to grab hers off of his face. "Hearing you tortured, knowing how much pain you were in and not being able to get to you. . . Hermione that was worse than, worse than anything - everything - that's ever happened to me." His voice got quiet but he didn't break their eye contact. "It was the worst day of my life because it was the worst day of _yours_. . . " Her heart jumped into her throat at his declaration. Dark, wounded poetry.

"We're fine, Ron. We're, all three of us, fine," she nodded toward the house. "We're so much safer now than we were last year, we just have a different perspective on it is all. It's more terrifying after the adrenaline runs out." He nodded bleakly at her and she read his expression and realized he was done talking to her about it. "If you ever want to talk about it again - "

"I will," he said, standing up above her and dragging her up with him. "Ugh, I feel . . . " He stretched up toward the sky, dropping her hands.

"Better?" she supplied, hoping that it was the case.

"Not exactly. Exhausted but glad it's - I'm glad we talked," he said.

"Always tell me if you're worried or anything, ok?" Hermione brought an arm up and around his waist. He nodded and put a hand in her hair, pulling her head to him to kiss her on top of her unruly hair. "Want to go bother Harry and leave off practicing again until tomorrow?"

"Yes, absolutely," Ron said starting toward the house. He opened the door for her and she walked under his arm without having to duck. She caught her reflection - she looked a fright. She quickly rubbed her eyes with her fingers to look less ridiculous.

"You two alright?" came Harry's voice from the kitchen. The closing snap of the refrigerator door drifted toward them as them walked into the room.

"Yeah," Hermione answered quickly.

"Mad?" Harry asked her. He was trying to stir Teddy a bottle together. Hermione realized Teddy was in dangerous balancing territory and moved to take him gently from Harry's arms.

"No," she adjusted Teddy and settled him against her chest. His eyes switched to her with a sense of wonder and she watched his hair darken to match hers. "Nice, Teddy. Good trick," she muttered contentedly. Seeing him match hers or Ron's appearance always made her think to a future together and about children with him. Would they have his hair? Her stature? His beautiful eyes? She glanced over to him and he gave her a small, tentative smile. All of the things he did and the way he acted made a sudden sense now that she knew he'd watched that memory. He always looked at her with a passion she'd never known he could be capable of and the way he'd spoken in the yard. . . She felt breathless remembering the way he'd emptied his soul for her.

Harry handed her a bottle, breaking her line of sight with Ron. She went to sit in the living room and purred nothings to the five and a half month old as he ate. A shower turned on upstairs while she was occupied with Teddy and she glanced around.

"S'Harry," Ron stated the obvious from his spot where he leaned against the back of the couch, looking down at her and Teddy. She smiled up at him and he walked around the couch to sit next to them. He reached down and stroked Teddy's small head.

"You love him?" Hermione asked him, watching his gentle caresses.

"Hmm? He's family," Ron elucidated, pausing to glance up at her for a half second. She beamed down at the baby and nodded. That meant yes.

"Do you ever thing about having your own?" she blurted before she could stop herself. She immediately colored and regretted it.

"All the time," he said, meeting her eyes significantly. Effervesce penetrated her entire being. "Do you?"

"Yes, I do," she responded, keeping her eyes on his. She felt like they were using Occlumency again and discovering new things about each other, deep secrets. Mind-reading without magic. Ron swallowed and looked away from her to stare into the empty fireplace.

"What do you think about? About them?" Ron asked, still looking into the empty hearth.

She looked down at Teddy who was getting close to the bottom of the formula. "Um, I think about what they'll learn and teaching them how to talk and singing them to sleep when they're little," she adjusted Teddy to sit so she could burp him and noticed Ron was watching her. He wordlessly summoned a dish towel and spread it out in front of Teddy as a preventative measure.

"You sing to Teddy sometimes," remarked Ron.

"Mhm," she patted Teddy gently on the back. "What do you think about?"

"About what they'll look like, about teaching them Quidditch, about explaining our lives and what we did to our children," Ron stopped abruptly, looking quickly back to the fireplace.

Her mind clouded over with excitement: he had stopped talking after he said 'our'. He thought about having children with her just as much as she thought about them. She realized he was still glaring into the fireplace. She took a chance.

"Who do you think they'll look more like, you or me?" she felt her heart clench painfully. What if that's not what he'd meant? _You're an idiot, Granger!_ Suddenly, he turned to face her with hope written plainly across his features.

"You, hopefully," he grinned at her lopsidedly. Oh, Merlin's left shoe, thank God.

"Aw, I was hoping you," she laughed. "At least your hair and eyes!" Teddy burped and Hermione dabbed at his little mouth.

"I love your hair, 'Mi," Ron said lightly, reaching a hand up to handle one of her curls.

"Thanks for feeding Teddy, 'Mione," Harry said, pulling on a t-shirt as he came into the room. Ron dropped his fingers from her hair.

"Yeah, you're welcome," she replied. Harry took Teddy from her and she immediately missed the weight in her arms. The rest of the evening went by quickly, seamlessly. She felt like she saw Ron in a completely new light after their talk. That night as he helped her get the kitchen clean while Harry Flooed with Teddy back to Andromeda and Ted's she turned to him.

"Ron, will you try to sleep tonight without the Dreamless Sleep?"

He froze, "'Mi, I - " He was getting too comfortable with that nickname, she decided, but now wasn't the time to bring it up.

"Just try it, we'll have some in my bathroom, just in case. You can get addicted to it, you know, to the point that you can't sleep, ever, without it."

"Ok," he agreed reluctantly.

That night they fell together, undressing and joining frantically with a pace to match all the raw emotions they exposed for each other that day. She lay panting on his chest after and he ran his fingers over her curls until she felt his breathing change as he slipped into unassisted slumber.


	36. A Gift and A Blessing

_. . . Chapter 36_

_. . . A Gift and A Blessing . . . _

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Ron had thought at length about what to get for Hermione's birthday. After noticing from daily observation over the last few weeks that she didn't have a necklace, Ron had settled on the idea of buying Hermione a necklace. He had walked into a jewelry store feeling out of place in the ritzy store with all the jewels under glass. Overwhelmed with the selection he'd asked one of the employees of the shop for help and she'd said that charm necklaces were what she'd want from her boyfriend. Carefully considering the options, Ron bought a necklace with a thin silver chain and three charms that hung in a cluster side by side. That had been last week. Now he was knocking on the door of Tristle's Transportation Trinkets and talking to a shrubbery.

"Judson Tristle, please," Ron said, clutching the green velvet jewelry box in his hand.

"Just a moment." Talking to a bloody plant.

In a moment the door swung open and Ron saw the familiar figure of Judson Tristle. He waited for a flash of recognition that never came. Only been two and a half weeks.

"I'm Ron Weasley, I had a question about making a Single-Location Portkey out of a necklace," he explained quickly.

"Oh, come in, come in," Mr. Tristle hustled him inside. Ron had checked with dad that Tristle had passed his raid last week before coming out here. It was one of his more genius plans. "Doesn't contain opal does it?" Ron shook his head no. "Oh, good. Shouldn't be a problem."

Ron watched him perform the charm on the dainty necklace and the glow of a Portkey hovered around it. "Now where do you want it to go?"

"Our backyard in Ottery St. Catchpole," Ron said quickly, shoving both hands in his pockets and watching carefully.

"Address?"

"147 Valona Street."

Tristle waved his wand in a complicated series of movements, chanting an incantation over the necklace. The pulsing light of the Portkey sunk into the necklace and the light faded away.

"That'll be 3 Galleons then," Tristle said, removing his goggles and blinking at Ron. Ron paid him quickly and decided to try it out once the door shut behind him.

Ron touched the necklace and muttered, "_portus._" The backyard of their house swirled into existence and Ron grinned at the necklace in his hand, carefully putting it back in the box and snapping the box closed. He went upstairs and put it in his side table to keep safe and hidden until Sunday.

Sunday morning rolled around soon enough and Ron woke to a naked girl stretching in his arms. He grinned at her.

"Morning," he said hoarsely.

"Morning," she whispered back.

"Happy Birthday," he pulled her on top of him and hugged her to his chest.

"Mmm, thank you," she kissed him lightly. The angle of her neck drew attention to the scar there and Ron swallowed, remembering her meeting every concern of his head on in the yard.

"You hungry?" Ron asked her, ignoring what the feeling of her naked skin squirming against his did to him.

"Pancakes?" she chirped, hopefully. He laughed at her and leaned up to kiss her before rolling her off of him and revolving to stand out of the bed.

Ron made quick work of the Pancakes and as he and Hermione sat down. Harry clumsily slumped down the stairs a few mintes later. His hair stuck up at all angles and Ron snorted at him.

"Shut it, Ron," Harry mumbled and leaned to hug Hermione over the back of her dining chair. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling and patting his arm with her hand. Harry plopped into a chair and served himself breakfast.

The day streaked by in a blur, Ron kept thinking forward to tonight, to dinner with Hermione and to the necklace he'd give her. Harry gave Hermione a book about the marriage of Arithmancy and other disciplines including Divination, Potions, and Astronomy. She'd told them she was short on ideas for her NEWTs project for Arithmancy and Harry had taken it upon himself to help her out. Hermione had loved it, of course.

Ron had told Hermione they were to leave at seven to go to dinner and he'd gone upstairs to shower and dress around six. Stepping out of the shower and toweling off, Ron heard a muffled tune and a baby's crying travelling into the bathroom. He wrapped the towel around his hips. Ron smirked at his own reflection as he started to shave - Hermione was singing to Teddy in Harry's room.

" - But I keep thinking that something's bound to go wrong

But she looks in my eyes and makes me realize,

When she says, don't worry baby.

Don't worry baby, everything will turn out alright.

Don't worry baby, don't worry baby,

Don't worry baby,"

Ron narrowed his eyes as he raked the razor over his chin. He'd no idea what that song was but her voice was lilting and drew him to listen closer to the rest of the song. By the time she finished the song, Ron was grinning like an idiot in the bathroom.

Hermione's light footsteps descended the stairs before Ron left the bathroom and at seven Ron stood ready in the living room with the box in his hand. He'd decided to give her the necklace before dinner for several reasons. First and foremost, Hermione would be safer the instant that necklace was on her and they were about to make a rare trip outside their wards. Secondly, he didn't want her to guess what it was and all that before she opened it. He hadn't exactly worried with the wrappings.

Hermione's door opened and she stepped into the room. Her hair hung loosely around her. Ron caught his breath. She was wearing a very un-Hermione dress. She ran her hands over the clingy grey fabric nervously. He'd been staring and silent too long.

"Hermione, you look brilliant," Ron rushed out, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that this was the first birthday they celebrated as a couple. Should he have gotten a bigger gift? A smaller one? Flowers? She flushed with pleasure at the compliment.

"Thanks, Ronald," she said his full name as a term of endearment this time. He would have hated it from absolutely anyone else. Her eyes darted to his hand and he held up the box.

"Happy Birthday, 'Mi," he instantly wished he'd wrapped it when she took it from his hand.

She grinned at him and flipped open the box and gasped when she saw the gift. The gasp was good, right?

"Oh, Ron! It's beautiful!" She picked it up out of the box and held it up to the light. She studied the three semi-precious stones that hung near together. "These are our birthstones!" She exclaimed and Ron glowed with pleasure that she recognized the thought he'd put into it instantly.

"Sapphire for you, ruby for Harry, aquamarine for me. A lady at the shop helped me," he detailed. "It's not too weird?" He raised a sweaty palm to the back of his neck nervously. All three, small round stones were set in silver. The sapphire hung lowest and in the middle, ruby was shortest on their little lengths as they dropped down from the silver chain.

"Oh, Ron, no! It's perfect! Put it on me," she held it out to him and turned her back to him. He took the necklace and she moved her thick tresses away from her neck. He inhaled a shaky breath of relief and fumbled with the clasp to bring it around her neck and fasten. He leaned in and kissed the small round scar from Scabior's wand on the back of her neck before fixing her hair to cover the necklace. Wheeling around, Hermione looked up at him. "How does it look?"

Stunning. "Perfect," he said, looking her over. There was lot of leg showing in this grey dress.

"Thank you so much, Ron, it's so thoughtful," she said.

"Always the tone of surprise," he teased, "anyway that's not all. Put your hand around it and say '_portus_'."

She narrowed her eyes up at him but he nodded at her encouragingly. "_Portus!"_ Hermione spun out of sight and Ron walked quickly to the back window to see her standing in the middle of the backyard in shock. Hermione flicked her golden-brown eyes up at him in the window and he heard her muffled speech - "Ron! It's perfect! This is amazing!" - before he made his way out the backdoor to stand beside her.

"It's programmed to take you right here whenever you touch it and say the incantation. You like?" He took her by her waist. This dress was going to kill him for sure, every curve of her was visible.

"I love," she whispered and stood up on her toes to kiss him.

He Disapparated them both to a deserted park on the other side of town. He had one arm around Hermione and the other ready to yank his wand out of the waistband of his jeans. He always had trouble deciding where to put his wand when he was in Muggle clothes. He looked down at Hermione and frowned.

"Mione, were the hell is your wand?" he asked, leaning to look at her front and back. She colored and Ron got instantly angry. "You left it! What the hell, Hermione with everyth - "

"It's tucked up in the waistband of my knickers on my hip," she was blood red with the admission.

"Your wand is in your knickers?" his eyebrows shot up.

"No! It's on my side. It's to the side. Now shut up, I'm embarrassed now."

Ron let out a hearty laugh and started walking out of the park to the restaurant he'd made reservations at. "What're you going to do if you need it, 'Mi? Quick little undressing and redressing in public then?" He looked down at her and she looked so mortified it made him laugh all over again.

"I guess I'll hike my dress up and grab it! Where do you think it was the night of the Ball?" Hermione said, crossly.

That just made him picture Hermione yanking that dress up her thighs. He took a deep breath and squinted his eyes to search for the painted sign he knew they needed to look for. Inside the restaurant was dark, an old building that had been retrofitted with low lamplight and candles. The hostess led them to a table off toward the back.

Hermione and Ron sank into their chairs, Hermione faced Ron and the wall and Ron faced out toward the rest of the restaurant. More than one man had turned to watch Hermione sit in her chair. He felt a flash of caveman-esque pride that she was there with him. They ordered quickly and settled into a comfortable talk, carefully avoiding his work and other unpleasant conversation.

"We're truly such an odd pair," she laughed suddenly.

He grinned at her but raised his eyebrows.

"Well, what I mean is, it always take such dramatic events for you and me to move. Like magnetic forces control all our movements. They push away or push too hard and we draw together. You ever noticed?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"No. . .what are you on about?" he asked. She lost him at 'magnetic'

"Well, think about it! It took an attack from a troll for us to become friends, the Manor for you to really realize how much we cared about each other, destroying a Horcrux to kiss for the first time, realizing we might die to admit we love each other, leaving and going to Hogwarts before coming back for us to . . . well, you know, the first time," she finished blushing at him.

He studied his hands carefully, a few stray freckles mark the back of his hands. He'd never thought about it before. Every time he thought someone or something might hurt her he stepped closer to her, didn't he? Every instance since they met he'd felt a need to protect her in some way or another. How funny that she was the best with spells and here he was, feeling like he always was the one who needed to be there for her. She was so small and looked so delicate but she was so brave and strong and infuriatingly hell bent on joining himself and Harry in whatever they did.

"I'd never noticed that pattern, actually," he said, covering his short silence.

She leaned back in her chair and studied a spot in the wall above his head. He itched to turn around and look at it but her expression told him that she was simply staring at a spot to think. "It's really something. . . We're really something, you know?" Her tone shifted perceptibly between her sentences and Ron puzzled over what she could possibly mean as the waiter set down their entrees and they started to eat. Something about what she'd said tingled in his stomach strangely. A good strange, but a kind of strange nonetheless.

Hermione regaled him with stories about when she was a little girl after he asked about a couple of her memories he'd seen while they practiced Occlumency. They'd tried again after the blow out in the yard with more success. Neither one could block very well but Hermione had managed to force him out once when he'd gotten closer to a memory about her waking up at Shell Cottage. Hermione's eyes lit up and candlelight danced off of her necklace and hair as she told him about visiting different places with her parents on 'road trips' in their car. She asked him about a few of his memories as well, his family's trip to Egypt that he hadn't told her much about, and his very, dramatically different relationships with each of his brothers.

"So is that why you and Charlie don't seem so close, then?" she asked, pushing her plate back to signal she was done.

"I guess, I mean I'd trust him with my life. . . It's just that we'd just never connected and talked like Bill and I did," he was trying to steer her away from talking about his brothers.

"Hmm, my mum got pregnant when I was about nine," Hermione said. Ron looked up at her in shock.

"You've never told me that before."

"No, I just, well it wasn't that big of a deal, really. People miscarry babies all the time, don't they? It would've been nice to be a big sister I think," a wistful look washed over her face.

"Boy or girl?" Ron asked, picturing Hermione at eleven years old and a smaller version of herself as her younger sibling.

"Oh, they didn't know at the time. I think it was too early," Hermione said before smiling, "I just always wonder about if I would've been nice and taught them things or if I would have been a terror. . . Probably a nightmare. That's about the same age difference as you and Bill and you get on well, though so who knows . . . "

Their meal ended too quickly for Ron's part and they walked back out of the restaurant. The temperature had dropped dramatically and Hermione shivered in a gust of wind.

"You'll catch your death out here, Hermione. Did you bring a jacket?" Ron put an arm around her to pull her close as they walked down the sidewalk.

"No, I can't hide everything up this dress, Ronald," Hermione bit back. He pulled her tighter against his side before deciding to cross the eerily empty street. Ron wished he'd worn a jacket he could offer her. A glimmer of something out of his periphery made him stop. Hermione lurched forward and he caught her by her forearms. In a split second he realized that her arms were totally bare. He hadn't noticed her scars once all evening until he'd felt them with his fingers just now.

"Ron?" she whispered.

"Hush," he commanded in an undertone. Ron looked back over where the glimmer had been and saw nothing. His training had made him paranoid about Disillusionment charms. He couldn't shake the feeling.

"Hermione, get home, I'll sweep the park," he whispered.

"I'm not leaving you," she breathed back and turned in a circle with her wand out.

Nothing happened for several long moments.

"Just being cautious," he muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

A hand grabbed his. "Portus," Hermione said lightly. They stood in the backyard together.

Hermione squeezed his hand and sighed happily, "Thank you for tonight, Ron."

"Still your birthday, you know," he cheeked at her.

Mischievous glinting played around her eyes and he followed her in the door. Ron nodded at her, trying to clear his mind of whatever or whoever might have been in the park.

Glad that Harry wasn't downstairs, Ron playfully shoved Hermione into her room before latching the door behind them.

That night, Ron went slowly with the woman he loved, rocking his hips in patterns against her that made her cry out and clutch at his shoulders. He pushed into her as gently as possible, every touch of hers seared his body, tattooing him with her strokes. He inhaled sharply when she came breathing his name over and over. He stole two more exquisite thrusts into her before groaning his release into her.

As she lay there afterwards with her eyes wide and trusting, he drew patterns with his fingers on her cheek.

"'Mione?"

"Hmm?" she blinked back at him, smiling so that the corner of her mouth pushed her cheek against his hand.

"Did you have a good birthday?" he whispered, leaning to hover above her lips.

"Best ever," she breathed back, closing the distance between them.

She fell asleep quickly, with her head on his shoulder. Hermione's fingers twitched in her sleep on Ron's chest. Ron toyed with a few of Hermione's curls with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her. The last thought that skittered across his mind before he fell asleep was that this birthday and every birthday they celebrated from now on was a lucky and blessed gift.


	37. Engagement Ring and a Prophecy

**AN: A lot of you have commented about the speed of posting lately and just in case I ever write another story, let me assure you - I cannot write this fast! I had the end of the story and the beginning of the story written and now I have finally met in the middle so that means . . . the story is done! It looks like there are going to be 50 (ish) chapters. I'm editing as I go so I'm trying to post and edit at least every other day. But yay and thanks for sticking with me! On with the story! **

_. . . Chapter 37_

_. . . Engagement Ring and A Prophecy . . . _

* * *

The next few weeks melted by as Hermione wore her beautiful new necklace from Ron with a ridiculous amount girlish pride. She threw herself into work with Odette and Grayson pursing Order of Merlin rights for Goblins. They didn't have a particular Goblin in mind, however, so they were pulling all files pertaining to Goblin histories to review again.

"Hermione?" Odette's voice called her out of her consideration of the history book in front of her.

"Yeah?"

"We need to pull some files that this one references: 10999, 10970, 10340, 10341, 10342. Could you go to archives and pull them with Edgecombe?" asked Odette, waving around a list. Her face was clearly apologetic that she couldn't go herself - still forbidden from taking files from archives.

"Sure," Hermione sighed, standing slowly from her chair. Both knees popped like light gunshots.

"Geez, Hermione! Stand up more often," Odette laughed, "You sound like my grandmother. All those creaks and pops."

Hermione grinned ruefully. She hadn't moved since lunch once except to lift a hand to turn a page. She turned to walk the long march to archives within their department with a springing lilt to her step. She and Harry and Ron had spoken and planned to go together after work to Gringotts. Harry had finally plucked up the courage to go check for the ring he wanted to give Ginny. Harry had talked himself into it, deciding that if it wasn't there then he wanted to know sooner rather than later. Feeling herself grinning as she walked, Hermione slipped into the door of archives, quickly summoning the files she needed and walking with a growing sense of dread at having to face Edgecombe. Edgecombe's withering stares had not weakened with time.

"Good afternoon, Madame Edgecombe. I need to -"

"Give them here," Edgecombe looked up to glower. Hermione pushed the small stack toward her across the counter. A black quill scratched and twitched across the page. Madame Edgecombe pushed them wordlessly back to Hermione. Hermione gathered the stack in her arms and walked back to her desk to scour the files with Odette for anything useful.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice called out from right behind her. Hermione jumped spilling a pot of ink over her notes.

"Shit!" she muttered, quickly siphoning the spilt ink off without turning around. "What Harry?"

"'Mione, it's fifteen after five," Harry explained sheepishly. Hermione spun around in her chair to look up at Harry and Ron who stood directly behind her. Ron was grinning at her. She felt like they were suddenly back in the library at Hogwarts and they were making her leave to make curfew on time. The thought made her feel too old. Had that really only been a couple years ago?

"Oops," she glanced over and Odette was gone. "Sorry."

"S'alright, Gringotts is open until seven," Harry said, eyeing her strangely.

"What? Have I got - "

"Yeah, you do," Ron moved forward laughing and brushed what was evidently a smudge of ink off of her forehead with a damp finger. "How do you always do this?"

"Ugh, I have no idea. It's almost every day," she groaned, letting him clean her up.

"Ready?" Harry asked, edging toward the corridor.

"Yeah," Ron called back to Harry, taking her hand in his. The three of them stepped out into the lobby minutes later.

"Weasley! Ron!" a booming, familiar voice called out. For a split second Hermione thought it was Mr. Weasley before they turned around and she recognized Chalden Harding jogging toward them.

"What's happened?" Ron dropped her hand instantly to take a step to Harding.

"Glad I caught you. Tip on Salter, literally just done. Going now if you don't have plans," Harding explained quickly. Ron glanced back at her and she felt her chest contract painfully.

"Yeah, alright. Harry, 'Mi," Ron clapped a hand on Harry's back and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "Take care of each other, I'll see you at home." And with that he was gone, following danger and Harding in the direction of the lifts. Be safe, she thought after him, watching his retreating form with a sinking feeling.

"Well? Up for some engagement ring hunting?" Harry asked with a forced brightness and she nodded and let him put a guiding hand on her back and lead her to a Floo out to the Leaky Cauldron.

Stepping into Gringotts, Hermione noticed that it seemed larger than the last time she'd been there. More tellers, more space. She wondered how much damage had actually been left here after their dramatic escape - she couldn't quite remember how much damage the dragon had done on the way out. Hermione let Harry speak to one of the goblins - Galad - and concentrated on Ron. Ron coming home safely, Ron kissing her, coming into her bed.

"Hermione?" Harry gently prodded her to move with a finger against her back and the pair followed the goblin.

"Oh, right, sorry," she muttered and followed the goblin to the cart. Riding in the cart, with the wind whipping through her curls, elicited a strange giggle from Hermione as she remembered the last time she'd done so. Harry turned to her and grinned rakishly.

"Can't believe they let us back here," he leaned and whispered in her ear.

"Me either," she whispered back, smirking at the back of the goblin's head. The cart eventually shrieked to a stop.

"Vault 687!" Galad barked at them and Harry and Hermione clamored out of the carriage.

"Key, please," he demanded. Harry fished a large key out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Lamp, please," he turned to ask Hermione. She quickly dislodged the lamp from its spot on the cart and hand it to the diminutive creature.

Galad opened the door and it swung open to reveal piles of Galleons, Sickles, Knuts and a couple piles of items spread around on and around tables.

"Alright, let's start looking, I guess," Harry breathed out beside her as the vault door swung shut behind them.

Hermione slid her outer robe off and piled it on the floor beside the door. She moved to a table that was littered with boxes on and under it. She pulled one box toward her on the edge of the table and lifted a the wooden top. The whole box was full of hair combs with jewels and precious metals. Hermione fingered one carefully. Pearls stood out against tarnished silver.

"Look at this, Hermione," Harry called out with an odd tone. She turned to look at him. He was holding up a white satin fabric.

"Is that a wedding dress?" She moved over closer.

"Yeah," Harry answered staring down at it strangely. Hermione looked at it and ran her hand over the slightly yellowed fabric. "It's probably somewhere over here then, you think?"

"I don't know, I found a box of hair combs so it might be back over there? Jewelry?"

"Yeah, yeah. You keep looking there, I guess," he cleared his throat. She frowned over at him.

"You alright?" Her mind inexplicably threw up a picture of Ron raising his wand to a stranger. She sent up a sudden prayer for his safety and turned her attention back to Harry.

"Yeah, fine," Harry answered quickly. "Oi, look at this," he said, a sense of wonder permeating his voice.

Her eyes darted to his feet where his gaze was lingering. A thick woven tapestry rug under his feet, decorated with embroidered ivy in the center. She gasped when she realized what Harry stood on.

"Harry! Do you know what this is?" she crouched down and reverently brought her hand to the fabric.

"No," he whispered, stepping off of the fabric.

"It's a Tribould Tapestry, a hide-away tapestry," she stood and grabbed his hand and made him bend down to touch the bundle of ivy in the center. The ivy unfurled and a keyhole appeared.

"What - " he started, jerking his hand back.

"A hide-away tapestry that you can unlock and use to disappear in for as long as you need it," she blurted and as she spoke the keyhole disappeared. Ivy typically stood for growth, friendship and relationships, protection. . . . "I wonder - "

She brushed her own hand over the ivy and the keyhole reappeared. She gasped.

"Does it work for everyone?" Harry whispered.

"No, I'm sure it's for, well ivy symbolizes friendship among other things so I suppose it's for you, Potter descendants, and people that you call friends," she breathed, eyes watching the keyhole fade.

"So Ron?" Harry asked in a fragmented question.

"Mm," she hummed her confirmation.

"And Ginny and one day our children. . ." whispered Harry.

She grinned at his soft words and nodded, looking at the growing flush on Harry's face.

"Yeah. . . Do you think you and Ron - ?" he broke off awkwardly and Hermione recognized his attempt to keep looking for objects, she turned toward another table.

"Will get married?" she finished for him, swallowing as she lifted a silver top off of a small, rectangular jewelry box. A diamond bracelet glittered on black velvet. "Um, I hope so. Why?"

"Just wondered if you'd talked about it," Harry said quietly. A cascade of noise like falling coins came from Harry's direction. "Shit," he muttered.

"We've talked about it. . . well, kinda," she popped open another wood box. "Oh, Harry!"she gasped out. "Found them."

Harry rushed over and saw the three rings sitting side by side. A man's yellow gold wedding band. A woman's yellow gold wedding band. A well sized diamond was fixed in the middle of another yellow gold ring. Traditional and timeless, though not quite her taste.

"Well?" she asked happily. Harry looked down at the rings.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Harry picked up the engagement ring and slipped it on his pinky to look at it, turning it in the dim light of the vault.

"Harry!" she exclaimed and turned to look up at his face. His face was set in a sort of horrified wonder as he appraised the ring. "Of course, they're perfect," she answered quickly to soothe him, looking from his face to the wedding rings.

"Strange isn't it? To think that I'll be proposing in what, seven months or so?" he asked with a small smile.

"Strange but good right?" There were several points during the last year that she could have never imagined something like the three of them growing old and getting married. Even now with the number of Death Eaters still on the loose she had trouble imagine a perfectly safe world for them all to get married and start families in.

"Strange but good," Harry answered in a small voice, closing the wood box on its small brass hinges. "I guess now that we know it is here, we'll leave them here for safe keeping?"

She nodded up at him and smiled gently.

"Want to hop a dragon out of here?" Harry joked to her, leaving the box on the table. She felt him trying to lighten the mood and appreciated it too much to put into words.

"Hurumph," Galad cleared his throat from the other side of the vault door. Hermione grinned.

"We're ready," Harry called through the metal door and a series of clicks later the vault door swung open to reveal a puffed-up, angry-looking goblin. The goblin snapped the key in the lock, shoved it back at Harry and gestured at them to get back in the cart. Too soon for dragon jokes.

Harry and Hermione walked out of Gringotts laughing at the abrupt dismissal by Galad in the lobby.

"Guess it left a mark," Harry looked back at the crooked white front of the bank.

"It's the only known successful robbery in the history of the bank, Harry," she felt herself swell with something like a sick pride at her statement.

"Is it really?" he asked, offering his arm to her. She linked her arm through his.

"Yes, turns out there's no where safe from us."

Harry pulled her with him in Disapparation back to their welcoming house.

* * *

Ron sat in silence with Bill and Kingsley in the living room. They'd shown up minutes ago looking like someone had died. Kingsley refused to speak with him until Harry and Hermione got home. All Bill would say was that they had a prophecy and needed to speak to Hermione. Ron checked Harry's clock frantically, pacing back and forth by it. The tines clearly said Hermione and Harry: Out. On one of his pacing marches, Ron glanced at the clock. Hermione and Harry: Travelling. He watched it with narrowed eyes. A moment later, Hermione and Harry: Home.

The instant Hermione and Harry had Apparated back from Diagon Alley, Ron heard them. They were both laughing in the backyard. Flinging open the door, Ron flew to them in a panic.

"Hermione? You're alright?" He grabbed her shoulders and then her chin to turn her face side to side. She looked fine, perfect, in the dusk light.

"Yes, what's this about?" Hermione asked quickly, glancing at Kingsley and Bill. "What's going on?" she asked. Ron's stomach was in a knot already from Bill's implication of what was to come. Nervous terror fluttered in his guts.

Kingsley and Bill exchanged a long look, Bill nodded at Kingsley who turned to Hermione. "I think we should sit for this, Hermione." Ron felt the fist that seemed to be clenching his stomach tighten. Hermione crossed her arms but Ron watched her turn to walk inside and sit down on the couch. Ron sat so close to her he was almost on top of her. He couldn't bring himself to care about something like personal space with the Minister of Magic and his oldest brother in the room, about to reveal the full nature of whatever was about to happen.

Kingsley sighed heavily and looked up at Hermione. Ron felt her tense against him. "Since the Department of Mysteries debacle and You-Know-Who luring you lot there, the Ministry adapted a new policy regarding the storage of prophecies and predictions," Kingsley moved a hand to withdraw a small object from his robes. "We deliver prophecies to the person about whom they are made, otherwise prophecies are destroyed on the spot to prevent break-ins." Ron felt the space behind his sternum get heavy as his heart throbbed painfully. Bill had been telling the truth: Hermione, a prophecy. Kingsley let the object sit in his open palm and purple fabric fell off of a small crystal ball.

"Oh, I don't want that, thanks," Hermione said and moved to stand up from the couch. Ron turned to stare at her, grabbing her wrist to keep her on the couch.

"Hermione, it was made by Trelawney at Hogwarts in front of a class of students," Bill explained and then nodded at Ron. "Ginny," he answered the unspoken question.

"You're going to know sooner or later, Hermione. Perhaps it would give you more privacy to hear it now instead of in public somewhere?" Kingsley grimly said.

Hermione hesitated and looked back at Ron. "What do you think?" She was asking his opinion? Really? He couldn't string his own thoughts together much less advise her on anything.

"Um, yeah, maybe it'd be better to know what we're up against?" Ron said and saw her eyes roll and then dart to the crystal ball before she huffed and agreed. She stood and held out her palm for Kingsley to drop the ball into her hand. Trelawney's voice burst from the ball and filled the space.

_The time of great peace approaches._

_It will come to pass when the one of three carries new life. _

_She will pass through the Veil. _

_Hermione Granger will cease to exist. _

_Her one love will repay those who take her in quick succession._

_Only after these have come into fruition will our world know peace._

The silence in the room buzzed in Ron's ears. Hermione stood stock-still in the center of the room, holding the ball in her hand.

"Hermione, it's - " Kingsley started.

"It's rubbish. I don't buy Divination. I never have," Hermione said but Ron noticed her shoulders sagging as he surveyed her back in her long sleeve cream shirt. "Is there anything else?"

"No, we just - " Bill started and Hermione fixed him with a glare. Ron looked down at his hands in his lap.

Kingsley cleared his throat and stood awkwardly in the suddenly tense room. "I'll just be going then and let you process this. If there is anything you three need, feel free to drop by my office anytime." He Flooed out without waiting for a response.

"Bill, how did you get with Kingsley?" Harry asked, quietly, glancing up at Hermione's still turned back.

"He came by the Burrow first - Fleur and I are, um, visiting - because he didn't know where yours, your place, was. I told him we'd come here. The family already knows the gist of the message with Ginny's owl this afternoon, so. . . " Bill paused to give Hermione a sorrowful look before fixing his mouth into a hard line. "You'll figure out something, disprove it or something, you three always do," he turned to look at Ron. "Want me to stay?"

Ron looked up at Bill feeling at once five years old and fifty. He heard his strangled reply as if a stranger had said it, "No, we'll be alright." Bill nodded and left the way he came.

"Hermione?" Harry broke the silence between the three of them after Bill left.

"What?" she snapped, still facing away.

"Hermione, what'd you think it means?" Harry asked. Ron looked over at him, his face was crumbled in on itself. Defeated.

"It means Trelawney is a fruitcake!" Hermione let out a harsh laugh. "It means we've got one more thing to worry about only this one is ridiculous so I hope you both let it go."

"'Mione, she - " Harry started, weakly.

"I'm going to shower and when I get out, we are absolutely not going to talk about this prophecy ever again," she wheeled around to finally face them and Ron saw anger and something unplaceable lacing her expression.

"Hermione, talk to us," Ron prompted, remembering how she'd let him vent in the yard last month. "Tell us what you're thinking," he whispered up to her.

She glared at him.

"Fine, this is ridiculous. I can't believe that Kingsley thought I'd want to know any of that. I wish he'd destroyed it instead of bringing that shit to me! And I just feel like we're trying to tip toe around landmines all the time! When does it stop?" Hermione shrieked, throwing her hands up and into her hair.

"What - ?" Ron started to ask about landmines.

"Tell you later..." Harry whispered back.

Hermione yanked her hands out of her hair. "It's like all the walls are always closing in with the Death Eaters and everything. I thought after the last year that everything would get so much easier! Ugh, I'm done talking about it. I want to ignore this prophecy, alright? It's crap."

"Alright," Ron and Harry answered together. She walked immediately out of the room and slammed her door. Through the door Ron heard her shuffling footsteps and muttering rant before another slam signaled her presence in her bath.

"Harry," Ron felt himself loosing it - his hands shook more violently - as her shower turned on audibly. The prophecy's phrases echoed strangely in his mind. "Harry, what did that all mean?"

Harry didn't answer.

"Harry! '_She will pass through the veil!' _What the hell else could that mean?" Ron felt panic rising in his chest. "You don't believe in it do you?" Ron looked at Harry who didn't move or answer. "Harry! Talk to me!" He whispered in a quiet approximation of the yell he wanted to let out.

"Trelawney was right about me and Voldemort and then about Pettigrew in third year. . . " Harry whispered back.

"Oh, God," Ron shot up off of the couch. "Something like _'carries new life'_?"

Harry nodded.

"She just - That's got to be her right?" He found himself pacing across the living room rug. "The one of three? You, me, Hermione. Three. Carries new life means pregnancy, right? Then she just won't get pregnant. Done. Ok, thwarted, right?" Ron asked frantically. Harry looked like someone had stunned him. "_Right_?"

"Oh, um, right, right," Harry stuttered out. Ron paced around the living room and Harry's telling silence fueled a horrible string of thoughts. _Cease to exist. Pass through the Veil. _What if the prophecy came true? What if Hermione -

Harry stood up and stumbled gracelessly from the room. Ron found himself inexplicably at Hermione's bedroom door, opening it when he found himself there and letting himself inside. Her room was empty and he was drawn instantly to the door of her bathroom. He knocked on it softly.

"Ron?" her voice was thick. He opened the door.

"Yeah, love. S'me." She was in the shower, the curtain was pulled closed, hiding her small frame.

"I'm so tired of being worried and scared," she squeaked out and he realized she sounded like she'd been crying. He drew back the curtain slowly and saw her leaning against the white wall of the shower. The silver necklace gleamed on her wet skin. Tiny dots of sapphire, aquamarine and ruby flashed and decorated her chest. Wet tendrils of hair clung to her neck and shoulders.

"Oh, Hermione," he breathed out, stepping into the shower with her. She looked so perfect, so wonderful. How had they wasted all that time before and now everything threatened to undo, to take everything away?

"Ron, your clothes," she said but he heard her sniff and looked down at her. He couldn't tell if those were tears or water from the shower head.

"I don't care," he whispered, gathering her in his arms. Her shoulders shook violently against his chest. Tears. Her hair was slick with something in it, conditioner or something. He gently turned her and used his fingers to work through her hair, letting everything wash away. The water was scalding hot. He didn't dare adjust it if she was comfortable.

"I'm just so sick of agonizing over Death Eaters and prophecies and dark magic and memories," she moaned out miserably against his chest. Hot water soaked into his clothes and hair.

"I know," he felt his own voice start to break but he had to be strong for her, he couldn't cry when she was this distraught. "We'll get through this, though, yeah? We got through last year - "

"I know but it is just another damn obstacle, another step backward," she balled her hands up in his wet shirt against his ribs. "When will it be enough?" she finished darkly.

"What do you mean?" he whispered against her wet hair.

"When will our sacrifices, our pain, and all we've done in our lives be enough that we actually get to start living out from under all of these shadows? When will we have given enough?" Hermione whispered and he felt her knees sway so he cut off the shower and stood there with her, holding her tightly. The water dripped off of his clothes as he leaned back to look down at her face.

"We have given. . . Hermione - " he made her look up at him before he continued, "we have given enough. And I don't know what to think about that prophecy," his throat seized up. He knew exactly what he thought about the prophecy and about the girl it was about, "but we'll figure a way around it. I won't lose you now," his voice got weaker as he went on. She noticed and frowned up at him.

"I don't believe in it, Ron. I just hate that now you and Harry will worry about it. He believes in this kind of junk and you worry about me too much already," she reached a hand up to finger her necklace. "You already keep me safe, Ron. Nothing will happen to me if I have this on or you beside me, alright? You promise not to worry about me because of this craziness?"

He nodded down at her and smoothed his hands over the smooth, slick skin on her sides.

She unbuttoned his clothes and started to peel his clothes off of him with practiced hands. He felt himself harden in spite of the new terrifying revelations of the evening and tried to block everything about that ridiculous prophecy out of his mind and focus on the woman in front of him. She leaned into him to capture his lips. Ron ran his fingers down the precious scar that stopped at the side of her navel and then dropped them lower. She was silky and damp against his fingertips, a very different kind of damp from the kind clinging to the clothes he had on. He swallowed hard against her mouth. She nipped down on the lip in between hers and Ron growled into her mouth, needing more, needing to be closer. He grabbed his wet clothing, shedding them quickly. They made squelching, shucking sounds coming unstuck from his skin. Hermione leaned back against the wall of the shower, letting him push her against it by her shoulders. Skin on skin.

"Tell me you love me," he commanded, shamelessly. He needed her. Smooth skin, damp hair, wet clumpy eyelashes, two freckles that always drew his lips down to that spot on her jaw.

"I love you," she whispered up at him. He stroked his hands down her body from her shoulders and felt her shudder deliciously against him.

"Tell me this prophecy doesn't mean anything." Grasping at her dainty waist roughly, Ron searched her face for an impending lie.

"It doesn't mean anything." Truth radiated from her expression. He kissed her hard, her head was forced against the tiled wall of the shower.

"Tell me you don't believe it," she whispered breathlessly between his ruthless assault of her mouth. He froze against her lips, keeping his eyes shut and their lips pressed lightly together. He didn't want to believe it at all. He wanted this: Hermione and him, happy and whole. Together. Forever. It couldn't - _could not_ - be true.

"I don't believe it," he muttered, moving to kiss her neck. He pushed two fingers into her and relished her cry. He lowered his mouth to her chest capturing a light pink nipple in his mouth. She clamped down on his fingers soon in gasping pleasure and he lifted her out of the shower to the counter in the bathroom. He still couldn't believe they shared this together, that she ached for him the way he did for her, that she let him know her in the most intimate way. He sank into her and she wrapped her legs around him. Her surrendering sighs against his mouth drove him to bury himself deeper in her. They weren't gentle with each other that night, roughly joining together with a poignant force. A force that felt suspiciously like fear.


	38. An Announcement and Moving Forward

_. . . Chapter 38 _

_. . . An Announcement and Moving Forward . . . _

* * *

A sound stirred Hermione out of her slumber. In a rush, details from yesterday decanted unchecked. Gringotts for the ring, the prophecy, Ron. She threw an arm across the spot where Ron should be to find it empty and cold.

"Ron?"

In the blackness of the room, Hermione tossed the comforter off of her and heard a muffled noise from the bathroom. The soft clink of a vial. "Ron?" she pushed open the bathroom door to see Ron standing at the sink in his boxers with an empty vial of Dreamless Sleep potion in front of him on the white counter.

He looked at her, long and tortured. All air was sucked from her lungs for a moment before she remembered how to breathe.

"Ron, come back to bed," she whispered, reaching to grab his hand. He let her pull him back into her room and she felt him relax back into his spot. He wrapped her in his arms - tight and almost too warm with her bare back against his warm chest. The potion pulled him into a deep slumber while Ron's arms drew her back into sleep.

Hermione woke up on Saturday morning with the full intention of never talking about the prophecy again. When neither Harry nor Ron mentioned it over breakfast she was slightly relieved but after years of friendship and near constant companionship, she could _feel _them thinking about it. Trelawney had a bad track record for prophecy with only two semi-correct ones and Hermione was determined to ignore it even if it did have a niggling presence in the back of her mind this tense morning. A large owl tapped on the window, startling her out of her mental wanderings.

"That's Brutus," Ron said standing on his long legs to let the bird into the house.

"Where's Persephone been the last couple days?" Hermione realized she hadn't heard scratching in the attic in a while.

"Sent her with a letter to Ginny," Harry scooped some of the gravy up with his biscuit. "Figure Ginny wanted to keep her for a bit but . . ." He shrugged. Hermione sighed as Ron walked back over. Harry would have been mental about being separated from Hedwig and not knowing exactly where she was. No pet was going to replace that owl for him. It was a sad realization that made her feel lonely for Harry.

"S'mum," Ron remarked gloomily as he looked over the letter. "They want us over for lunch."

Great.

A few hours later after delaying their journey to the Burrow more than was probably appropriate, Hermione stood with Harry and Ron on their rug. It wasn't that she didn't want to see the Weasleys but rather she didn't want to _talk_. Bill's words from last night "the family knows the gist" were a horrific prelude to what she worried would be a long discussion about that blasted prediction.

"Ready?" Ron asked. Without waiting for her or Harry's responses, he tossed the powder in the fireplace and they went whirling away instantly to the Burrow.

Soon they were all situated around the Burrow's large table with its wonderfully mismatched chairs. The whole family - save Charlie and Ginny - was gathered there. Then Hermione realized that Bill had said they were at the Burrow the night before. Before the prophecy. She glanced over at Bill who was watching Fleur's every movement as she helped Mrs. Weasley plate the food. His mouth twitched upwards in a smile every time Fleur caught his eye.

Mrs. Weasley let them all get the food onto plates before them before laying into them regarding the prophecy.

"It is like one tiny apocalypse after the next! What exactly did Kingsley say?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Mum - " Ron started, frowning over at Hermione. Thank Merlin for Ron.

"Kingsley just said that they deliver the prophecies now to the people they're made about and why. He didn't say anything else, really," Bill spoke softly. Hermione glanced over at him, vaguely remembering him trying to ask her questions at Shell Cottage when she was less than perfectly lucid.

"Well, I, for one, am telling you three to heed those words. Be careful and - " Mrs. Weasley's maternal instincts and worried speech were lost on Hermione. She looked down at the plate of corned beef and cabbage and used her fork to destroy one piece of cabbage after the next.

" - Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley's voice which had been a constant buzz in Hermione's ears halted. "You will, Hermione, won't you?"

Hermione inhaled sharply and looked up at Ron and Harry across from her. Harry nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, I will," she answered the question she hadn't heard. Ron smirked down at his plate - no doubt because she'd just tuned out an entire conversation. His plate was almost as full as it had been a few minutes ago. She wasn't the only one playing with her food instead of eating evidently.

"Well, that's that, then. And you three make sure to let us know about what you get up to," Mr. Weasley ended that strain of talk effectively. Hermione looked up at him and he nodded at her grimly. The table settled into awkward silence for a couple minutes as everyone else ate their food. Tiny, mutilated slivers of cabbage rested pathetically on Hermione's plate.

"Bill and I 'ave some news," Fleur spoke and shattered the silence. Putting together Bill's tender looks and Fleur's coy glances, Hermione knew instantly what Fleur was about to say and grinned. The entire table turned toward Fleur and Bill who were looking at each other with bald love. "We, Bill and me, are 'aving a baby," Fleur chirped happily, earning a kiss from Bill. The whole table seemed to burst with life at the announcement. A welcome relief.

"Oh, Bill, Fleur! How wonderful!" Molly cried, clutching both hands at her chest.

"Congratulations!" Percy said, standing quickly from his chair and moving over to the cabinets. "Toast!"

Hermione glanced at Ron to see if he was excited or not. His face was practically glowing as he grinned over at Bill and Fleur. He seemed to feel her gaze and turned to look across the table at her. Still grinning, he bit his lip slightly and tilted his head to look at her almost appraisingly. Breathless in that instant, Hermione saw a flash of her future laid out before her: tiny ginger children, Christmases, taking them to King's Cross for Hogwarts, Ron would dote on them endlessly and so would she. The room seemed to get quiet. Hermione knew without a doubt that Ron would be thinking along the same lines as her. She nodded and grinned at him. He hid and tried to stifle his growing grin behind his hand.

Percy passed out glasses of red wine to the table - water for Fleur - and raised his in a toast. "To the newest Weasley!" The table let out a chorus of laughter and agreement. Hermione glanced away from Ron. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were crying as they hugged Bill and Fleur. Mrs. Weasley touched one hand to Fleur's still perfectly flat stomach. Hermione tried to picture her round with a baby and had trouble imagining.

"When are you due, Fleur?" Mrs. Weasley sniffed through happy tears.

"O, on May 4th, 'ealers say," Fleur said, smiling serenely. Hermione frowned slightly at the scene. She'd lost so much weight last year that her cycle had gone a bit haywire: there some months, not there the next. Surely if muggle medicine had ways around that then wizarding medicine would. . . Wouldn't it? She felt the weight of a new worry press her shoulders down before deciding to worry about more important things and setting her shoulders, putting it out of her mind.

"Oh that's wonderful! You're not far along at all, then? Two months or so?" Mrs. Weasley said, looking in vain for any sign of a thickening waist on Fleur's perfectly slender form.

"Oui, mum," Fleur leaned against Bill who had moved to stand behind her. Hermione smiled at them. What a beautiful little family, baby makes three and all that.

"Another toast," George spoke up, "To Bill and Fleur." His toast wasn't as exuberant or boisterous as Percy's had been but was equally well received. The table erupted in "Here, here!" and "Bill and Fleur!" Hermione took another sip of her wine. Something about seeing new life grow out of the terror of last year was like a balm to her soul. This baby would never know war like they had seen. Would never know death and young lives mingling so viciously and frequently. Would never know torture. This baby was a new generation. The next generation. What they'd fought for. Teddy and Fleur and Bill's baby were the first two of the new generation of her friends. Hermione felt tears gather in her eyes and wiped them away quickly, glancing away from everyone to try to conceal her sniveling.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered. "Alright?"

"Yeah," she turned back to him with her eyes brightly sheltering tears, "just really happy for them is all." She noticed Ron beaming at her. Maybe this would be them soon, announcing for their friends and family that they were going to be parents. Hermione shook herself out of that train of thought. _Missing a key step there, Granger,_ she thought ruefully to herself. First comes marriage. She thought back to finding those rings of Harry's. Did wizards ask the fathers' permission? Well, would Harry was the real question? Yes. Without a doubt, Harry would ask permission from Mr. Weasley. She wondered how long he'd wait. Obviously he wouldn't be asking today. After entirely too many toasts, Hermione pushed her chair back from the table. The group of the nine of them: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, George, Percy, Harry, Ron and herself, had successfully taken out three bottles of wine. Scratch that, Fleur had water. The eight of them had taken out three bottles of wine. They'd joked about names and what if it's a boy and what if it's a girl. Hermione secretly hoped it would be a girl. Mrs. Weasley would flip over a girl. They all needed more things to flip about.

The group of them said quick goodbyes and Hermione noticed Ron was keeping a hand on her to steady her. Tipsy at the Burrow didn't sit as wrong with her as she would have thought it would. A quick Floo ride that made her head spin and the three of them were back in their comfortable house. Houses always smelled different after being at someone's house. You didn't notice it going from home to work to home but when you'd been in someone else's home. . . Home smelled so good. Hermione stumbled a bit.

"Whoa, alright, there?" Ron's voice divulged his amusement.

"Yes," she answered tartly.

"Here," he put an arm around her waist and led her to the couch. "Lay down. How many glasses of wine did you have?"

"Three."

"You're joking!" Ron scoffed at her. "Harry, she's a lightweight. Three glasses and she's drunk!" Harry's chuckle was muffled and Hermione saw him laugh behind his hand down at her.

"I'm not drunk. Tipsy," she correct. They were both complete idiots.

"Yeah, that's what they all say," Harry said. "I'll go get you some water."

Hermione let herself get babied with crackers and water and decided to take a nap on the couch while Ron and Harry played Exploding Snap like they were second years again on the rug. She stirred after a while and stretched. Her mouth felt like sandpaper.

" - and when mum was talking?"

"No, I know. I've never seen her act like that before," Harry whispered. She could practically feel her ears burning. They were talking about her. "Like she was off somewhere else."

"She just didn't want to talk about it. Doesn't want to talk about it at all. Wants to pretend it didn't happen, that we don't know," Ron breathed.

Their voices were coming from the kitchen. Anger bubbled up in her chest.

"Makes it hard to pretend it didn't happen when you two are gossiping like old witches about it over there," she called out, rubbing her gritty eyes. She glanced up at the clock. Almost midnight. They went silent and Hermione ran a hand through her tangled curls, sitting up on the couch and glancing over the back of it at them. They were both blinking at her in bewilderment. She found she wasn't actually that upset with them, her whole system seemed relaxed from the wine still. She grinned at them, remembering what she'd said in first year.

"Now, _if_ you two don't mind, I'm going to bed," she did her best impression of her younger, slightly bossier self. Ron smiled but Harry didn't. She stood up off the couch and shuffled clumsily over to them and gave Harry a pat on the shoulder. Ron got a hug from behind his dining chair. She leaned to kiss him on the cheek. "You coming?"

"Yeah, just a minute," he answered back, watching her head into her room. She closed the door slowly and it let out a soft click. Her bed had rarely, if ever, seemed more inviting. She yanked her wand out of the pocket on her jeans and popped it down on her bedside table before collapsing onto the bed. A twinge reminded her that she should brush her teeth but she didn't care enough to make her body function.

Something tugging on her leg woke up her. She groaned. Ron laughed.

"Your shoes, dummy," he said, chuckling.

She tried to say, "I don't care, leave them on." But it came out a lot more like a bellyaching complaint without any indistinguishable words or phrases.

"You want a little cheese with all that whine, Hermione?" Ron joked and she grinned with her eyes still shut.

She coughed once to clear her throat and head. "Good one. Now shut it and snuggle me. "

"Boss-y," he teased her with a singsongy voice but she felt him lean into her bed and move so that they faced each other. Her face itched suddenly but her arms were wound around Ron so comfortably. She leaned up and brought her smooth, itching cheek to Ron's stubbly one and rubbed her face against his until she'd scratched her face to her heart's content.

"Excuse me but what exactly the hell did you just do?" he asked after a couple moments.

"My face itched. I scratched it," she opened her eyes and grinned at him.

"Yeah, on my face! I'm not a scratching post over here," he laughed at her and squeezed the spot just above her hip with his fingers. Dangerously close to a ticklish spot. She narrowed her eyes at him and rubbed her face against his again. He laughed and pushed her back and held her down by her shoulders on the mattress. Ron chafed the stubble on his face all over Hermione's face and neck while she laughed at his playfulness. Finally, he quit and they lay there with him on top of her smiling at each other.

"You want to scratch your face on mine again?" he asked with a smirk.

"Not right now, thank you," she heard the slur permeating her voice and knew Ron had too.

He chuckled and shifted so that he lay on his side beside her.

"That's something about Bill and Fleur," Ron whispered.

"Yeah," she turned to look at him. "I'm so happy for them."

"Me too. . . you think she'll be a good mum?" he mused.

"Yeah, I think so. . . with the way she tended me and everyone - "

"Right, yeah," Ron cut her off before she could say 'at Shell Cottage'. "You think it'll be ginger or blonde?"

"Blonde," she answered immediately. "And a girl."

"Fine, placing bets now: I'm betting it's a boy with red hair," Ron said, pulling her against himself.

"And what does the winner get?" Hermione asked against his neck.

"Bragging rights," he kissed the side of her head.

"I think the winner gets more than that. Winner gets," she paused to think. "Winner gets . . . If you win, you get that new set of Keeper gloves. If I win, I get a new book from Flourish and Blotts. Deal?"

"Yeah. . . 'Mione, how'd you know I needed new gloves?" he whispered.

"Heard you telling Harry, why?" she snaked her fingers under the back of his shirt to brush over his skin.

"No, it's - it's a deal," he breathed against her curls. Between Ron and the wine, Hermione was asleep in moments.

Over the next couple weeks, Hermione was surprised but relieved when Ron didn't bring up the prophecy with her. They resumed their usual routine and Hermione learned that both Harry and Ron had gone out on a few of the more routine raids that Aurors outside of war-times seemed to go on. One night when Ron was out on a raid of some man who was altering the properties of Muggle cameras, Hermione had walked into Harry's room to put away some laundry and found Harry holding the small crystal ball in his hand.

"Harry Potter!" she shrieked at him. He jumped at dropped the ball. It rolled noisily across the floor. "What're you doing?"

"Just - I was just. . . " Harry faltered and she noticed the bloodshot tint to his eyes.

"Harry! It doesn't mean anything," she said frantically, willing him to believe it. "It's stupid! Leave it alone." She jerked open his t-shirt drawer and dropped in his shirts. When she turned back around Harry was studying her carefully.

"Hermione, she's been right before," he said softly.

She clapped her hands over her ears. "I don't care! A broken clock is right two times a day, Harry."

He nodded and didn't move to speak so she lowered her hands.

"I'm serious, Harry. I don't believe in it and it wouldn't do for you to either. Alright?" she wanted to hug him but was almost angry that he was contemplating the prophecy.

"Alright, but - "

"NO! No buts. Move on. You have socks downstairs, I think. I can't always tell yours and Ron's apart. Come go through them," she commanded before turning quickly to leave the room.

_One day at a time,_ she thought to herself with a forced optimism as she descended the stairs, _it will get easier one day at a time. _


	39. Molly's Birthday and Pursuit

_. . . Chapter 39 . . . _

_. . . Molly's Birthday and Pursuit . . ._

* * *

"Ron. RON!" A shrill shriek woke Ron from a rare blessedly dreamless sleep.

"Oi, what?" he groaned against the pillow as Hermione aimed another kick at his shin.

"Owl. Get it," she commanded grumpily.

Casting a tempus charm quickly Ron found it to be early in the god awful hour of six o'clock on a Saturday. Stumbling over the Orange Menace and out Hermione's door, Ron saw a large Ministry owl tapping the window persistently. Blinking rapidly to clear the sleepy blur from his eyes, Ron covered the wood floor quickly. Very few things were important enough to interrupt weekends. Death Eaters, attacks, death in the family. . . Ron jerked the window open and the bird landed quickly. Ron yanked the scroll from the birds leg and it took off from where it came. Ron fumbled to unroll it and lay it flat on the table.

_Weasley, Potter - _

_Ministry tomorrow at nine am. Fawe. _

_Harding_

Ron looked down at the parchment. Fawe was to be arrested then. The standard pre-raid fear dampened the prospect of putting Fawe in Azkaban slightly.

"What is it?" Hermione's sleepy voice called out.

He looked back down at the note and crushed it in his hand, detouring to throw it into the ashes in the fireplace on his way to Hermione's room. Pausing at her door to look down at her, Ron answered quietly, "Raid tomorrow." She went from eyes shut, snuggled into his spot with his pillow to sitting up in his white undershirt in one blink.

"Who? What time?" Her ability to jolt awake instantly was fascinating. So was that bleeding perfect shirt.

"Tell you tomorrow," he cheeked. They couldn't tell anyone anything until after raids had actually happened and so far Hermione had only wormed information out of him a couple times. His feet slapped against the wood floor. Hating having to leave her in the dark, yet glad that she was safe from undue worry, Ron pushed her back into bed and curled her to himself to chase after an elusive sleep. Hermione's breathing evened out quickly in his arms. Ron stayed awake mentally reviewing everything they'd learned these months - spells, stealth, group raid strategies. Group raid strategy was simple - groups performed actions that forced favorable reactions. Very exact. Very precise. He would be shadowing Harding, of course, but eventually, he'd have a spot, an exact plan. He hated not knowing the plan and trusting Harding implicitly and blindly. It was rather like playing chess with a blindfold on and trusting someone else to put your hand where it needed to be.

Harry's footfalls alerted Ron to his wakefulness and Ron pulled Hermione tighter against himself, breathing in the smell of her hair. After years of wondering at the smell of her hair, Ron knew now that it was _Orange Ginger_, a muggle shampoo that Hermione always found at corner 'drug stores'.

"'Mione?" Harry's voice seeped in around the edges of her white door.

"Not awake," Ron whispered back. Hermione groaned and stirred.

"M'wake now," she grumbled and Ron smirked at her when she twisted in her arms, blinking rapidly.

The shadows of Harry's feet shuffled in front of Hermione's door. "Did you get stuff for omelets? I can't find the onions - "

"Far right cabinet, behind the potatoes," she interrupted. "Cheese is in the fridge."

"Ok, you want some?"

"Yes we do," Ron answered for her. She looked up at him, glaring. "Mum's birthday is today, might as well get up and then go over there for the visit." At her scowl still in place, Ron added, "Fleur will be there. Baby news maybe?"

Her face softened predictably. Always a sucker for babies, elves, and all manner of small, big-eyed creatures. He suppressed a smirk when his thoughts drifted briefly over to SPEW.

"Up for omelets," he said before her face resumed its hardened look. He pushed her gently to her side of the bed and then slid out of his side as well. Shapely, tanned thighs peaked out from under that white shirt as she walked. Ron took two steps over to her, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her back to bed. "Omelets in a few minutes. Come here," he breathed before wrenching the filmy clothing off of her and throwing it to the side in a flourish before impeding her journey to breakfast.

Hours later, the three of them stepped out into the living room of the Burrow where mum's birthday had evidently exploded over the space in the living room. Ron gaped at the gaudy display.

"All ours, new products," George materialized between streamers that were suspended in mid air. George waved a hand at the decorations and then smiled up at him before stepping to embrace him. Seeing George always made it feel like someone had stomped on his chest. He stepped back from George hoping that that feeling would fade with time.

Bill's face swam into view. "Ron!" He moved to clap a hand on his shoulder. "Where's your beloved?" Ron's face heated up at the endearment but he stepped aside to let Bill greet Hermione and Harry.

"Ronnie?" mum's voice filtered through the streamers, detached from a visible source. His ears reddened to match his face at the nickname and he glanced down at Hermione to see if she thought anything of either address. She was running her fingers through the multi-colored paper streamers that shimmered and changed colors against her slim digits.

"Yeah, mum," Ron called out in time to see her part the streamers and appear in front of the three of them. "Happy birthday, mum," Ron smiled down at her and reached down to hug her. He couldn't remember a time before he had to reach down to her.

"Thank you, thank you," she backed away and grinned up at him before moving to embrace Hermione and Harry in turn before ushering everyone out of the disaster zone in the living room and into the kitchen.

Around the table, the group of them effortlessly arranged themselves in the same positions as only a couple weeks ago. Ron looked up as he realized their places and wondered if anyone else had. A shudder went through him when he realized he hadn't thought about the prophecy yet today. His guard was down. Setting his shoulders more squarely, Ron sat up straighter in the chair. _Constant vigilance_ fluttered across his mind in Moody's characteristic gravel.

"Well? Any news from the Healers?" mum said, scooting her chair in and turning to look at Bill and Fleur. The conversation drew Ron's attention from the plate of cottage pie, carrots and peas.

Bill and Fleur shared a look that shot through Ron and ignited a fierce longing for that kind of future with Hermione.

"We hav found out zat eet ees a girl," Fleur said, grinning at Bill and then at mum and dad. Bloody hell, Hermione was right. He remembered asking Harry once _'How is it she knows everything?' _ and smirked over at Hermione. Her face glowed with happiness and her eyes glinted with the knowledge that she was right about the sex of the baby . . . well, half right. Girl with blond hair, she'd said. Half right. He'd offer to buy her half a book then and get a laugh at that. He could picture her now, her horrified expression as she pictured a book torn in two.

"Oh! How wonderful! A girl," mum exclaimed, clearly overjoyed. A familiar pang of heavy weight settled in Ron's stomach. He had to work to keep from frowning suddenly. _Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter. _He swallowed the thick feeling in his throat.

"Yup, we found out a few days ago and figured we'd wait for when we had all of you together again," Bill said, bringing an arm up to wrap affectionately around Fleur's back.

"Well that's wonderful," dad piped up from his seat at the end of the table. "All healthy then?"

"Yes, she ees. All healthy," Fleur declared. Ron watched his mum wipe a tear away and felt almost nauseous before training his expression not to betray his thoughts to Harry or Hermione if they glanced his way. He felt sure that no one else would see behind the mask he currently wore except Harry and Hermione.

"Yeah and we figure that we need to Floo Ginny and Charlie before word gets around too much and we have to hear it from Ginny so we're telling them after dinner," Bill explained. Smart.

"When is Ginny coming home, speaking of her," Percy asked around a wad of carrots. Disgusting. Almost immediately Ron remembered Hermione correcting his manners at the table in the Great Hall once sixth year and colored.

"Oh, um. . . when is it Molly? December - "

"Seventeenth. December seventeenth, we're due to pick up her at noon at King's Cross," mum answered quickly.

"Oh that's Audrey's birthday, well that'll be easy enough to remember," Percy said, smiling over at mum.

"How is she doing?" mum asked but Ron read a bit of tension crossing her forehead.

"Good. She's good. Her nephew - Laurence Arrhenius - is starting Hogwarts next year. Audrey was a Hufflepuff so she's hoping that Laurence will be. We'll have to wait it out I guess," Percy said, tapering his speech off after he'd confessed his girlfriend to be a Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff had always seemed like the leftovers of Hogwarts to him. Gryffindor was brave, Slytherin was full of cunning gits, Ravenclaw for the brainiacs and then Hufflepuff was for people who were loyal? Gryffindors were unfailingly loyal to their own. Same story with Slytherins - to a fault really. So then Hufflepuff seemed to be the leftover group, the misfits that were grouped together and asked to be loyal to each other in spite of their anti-talent.

"That's nice," dad spoke, breaking a silence that had stretched on a bit too long. "And Hermione? Your schooling?" Ron turned his head to look at her. Her face brightened at the topic change.

"Oh good! It's going well. I've selected my NEWTS level independent project for Transfiguration and Charms I think," she said, looking over at his parents. He inclined his head at her in confusion and Hermione glanced at him and then Harry. "Well I didn't want to tell you two if I changed my mind or failed at it but - well, ok - Transfiguration has a separate independent project required for each NEWTS level student and then Charms does as well so I thought it'd be great to combine the two of them. So what I'm doing is transfiguring a non-living item into a humanoid being that can think and reason so. . . like the suits of armor at Hogwarts jumped to defend the school when commanded?" She paused and waited for the table to understand her. Ron noticed her bite her lower lip slightly during the pause and had to refocus his thoughts quickly. "Well, this is rather like that because that's ancient magic and when I asked McGonagall she said that that spell, or series of spells, is lost to the school and then so many of them were destroyed that, well, I thought it would be useful to recreate," Hermione finished breathlessly in the stunned silence. Brilliant. Why did she always have to be so bloody brilliant?

"That's - that's brilliant, Hermione," he spoke before she lost that happy expression on her face and glowed when her smile grew.

"Thanks, Ronald," Hermione said softly. He felt her foot nudge against his under the table.

"It really is," George added. "Blimey, that's magic that the founders of Hogwarts did. How many of those were destroyed?"

"McGonagall said almost all of them were. The first part of the spell is easy comparatively. Remember that herd of desks McGonagall made?" Hermione glanced around the table and wait for their nods. "Well that's pretty much the first part. It's a bit trickier than that but it's similar at least. The hard part is bestowing them with human reasoning skills."

The rest of Ron's family agreed that her NEWTs in Charms and Transfiguration were brilliant. He made a mental note to ask her how Arithmancy, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes were going too. He still had trouble believing she'd decided to pursue full NEWTs in six subjects. Even more puzzling and wonderful was her desire to take and earn her Defense Against the Dark Arts NEWTs. When he'd asked her about it the first time, she'd responded tartly,_ "I've been keeping up with two Aurors-in-Training for the last few months. Not to mention the things we did last year. I'd like to get that too - prove people wrong." _ He smiled over at her.

After dinner - they had thankfully skipped wine this time, he cut his eyes at the perfectly sober Hermione - they moved into the living room where mum was torturing Bill and Fleur by going through all the old baby photos of Bill. Hermione's less than impressive tolerance for alcohol was something Ron had to file away for future reference. Two glasses of wine - fine. Three - Hermione is drunk. No shades of gray. He smirked over at her where she and Harry were talking animatedly. Harry stopped when Ron glanced their way and jerked his head at him to come over. Ron stood and covered the room between them.

"Ron, I think we should head out. It's already almost ten and we've got. . . " Harry tapered off but Ron understood he meant the raid with Fawe.

"Right," Ron answered with his thoughts on the raid tomorrow morning. "Yeah, ok. Just let me - "

"Oh, yeah, let's," Harry interrupted, finishing his thought. The three of them bid goodbye to everyone, promising to see them again for Bill's birthday in a month if not sooner. He wondered how Fleur would look then, if she'd be showing yet.

That night with Hermione in his arms, Ron stared up at the ceiling and tried to gently pull her hair up off of his arm where it tickled the old scars there.

"I won, you know," Hermione said lightly.

"Huh? Won what?" he goaded. He knew she was talking about the baby, he'd been waiting on her to bring the baby up.

"It's a girl," she explained with a twinge of irritation tainting her voice. "I win."

He grinned in the dark. "So you did. . . half of it."

"Half?"

"You called hair color as well. Blond," he pressed his face against her curls while he talked.

"Yeah, yeah." He heard rather than saw the smile that must've been gracing her face. "Well, half right is better than you. You're half wrong," she teased.

"Mmhm," he answered sleepily, curling both arms around her and breathing deeply for many silent minutes.

"Beloved," she whispered into the darkness just before he drifted away into sleep.

"Hm?" Curiosity narrowly beat out sleep and he listened carefully to her response.

"When Bill asked, 'Where is your beloved?'. . . I like that. It's a bigger word than girlfriend. . . It fits us, I think," she said.

He smiled against his pillow, "Goodnight, beloved."

"Goodnight," he could hear the smile in her response.

With a sharp pang he remembered the now ever present cloud hanging over their happiness, all of the clouds, he amended, thinking about the raid tomorrow morning. He pulled her against him so that her bare bum rested in the cradle of his boxer-clad form. He'd make sure they proved that damn prophecy wrong. Every move she made was his to watch. He fell asleep thinking about how to outsmart fate.

The next morning, Ron and Harry stood outside in the back yard. Hermione had agreed to honor the Sunday agreement with the Tonks' to keep Teddy by herself until they got back. She leaned against the frame of the back door watching them get situated in their Ministry robes. Ron glanced back at her with her hair blowing in the cool late October breeze. Ron felt Harry grab onto his arm and dragged his gaze off of Hermione's small form.

"Be careful," he heard her shout from behind them as they spun away from their house and to the Ministry.

Walking into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was like stepping off a cliff. Quickly, Ron and Harry both realized that this raid had security and strategy measures taken far above the regular level for raids. Ron cracked his knuckles in a nervous habit. Within seconds, Lyra Silvestri materialized in front of them.

"Guys, here are your Portkeys," Silvestri handed the transportation devices to each of them in turn. "Heading to Newquay so might be a bit of a twist. Land as silently as possible, follow Parnell and Harding, stun or hex to capture not kill if possible but if it's between you and me, the poster does say 'Dead or Alive'. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Yeah," Ron answered in the same breath as Harry. His heart started racing. Dead or Alive. Bloody hell.

"Alright, good," Silvestri motioned to the Portkeys. "Activate in - " she checked the clock in the department "- seven minutes." Silvestri marched away from them, presumably to pass out more Portkeys and advice.

"Should we go over to Parnell and - " Harry asked softly.

"Harding? Yeah," Ron answered and the two of them moved to stand beside their respective Aurors and wait.

"Ready? See you in Newquay," Silvestri called out to the group of them just before the tug of the Portkey pulled him into a twisting darkness.

The group of twenty or so Aurors materialized in the shade of a line of trees beside an old barn. Ron glanced at Harding and followed his gaze over to Silvestri who motioned for people to go left and right around the graying wood sides of the barn. When Harding moved Ron followed him to the right of the barn, creeping silently across the grass. Terror suddenly flooded his person, he let it flow right back out and concentrated on putting Fawe in Azkaban. Away from Hermione. Away from other Muggle-born witches. Away from defenseless muggles.

Ron sensed the movement of the Aurors at the tree line and glanced back.

"Come," Harding breathed out light enough to have been the wind. Ron tried to refocus as they turned the corner around the side of the barn and saw the large barn door partially ajar. Harry's face stuck out at him across the gap of the door where he and Parnell advanced from the other side of the barn. Silvestri stood at the door and was careful, Ron noticed, to not step between the door and the sun and alert anyone inside to her presence. She glanced up at them and then to the group behind her and nodded at the door.

Russell and Silvestri were silently and almost instantly inside the doors. Harry's untidy black hair bobbed from somewhere a few feet in front of him. A rustle in the barn loft.

"_Diffindo!_" Harry's voice cut through the group before anyone else could raise their wand to the right angle.

A horrible scream came from above and then the muffled _pop_ of Apparation.

"Bollocks!" Russell cried out.

"Heard us too soon," Silvestri said, glancing back at the doors of the barn. "Nice try, Harry," she said with a dejected tone. A couple Aurors went up to check the loft. Light streamed in through gaps between the wooden boards, creating hundreds of parallel slivers of light that went running across the dirt and hay covered floor.

"I was trying to break the loft. Get him down here," Harry explained, shifting his feet and putting a hand to the back of his neck.

A bark of laughter came from above. "Bloody hell, well done, Potter." The smiling face of Hall Maxwell appeared over the edge of the wood. "Got a chunk of him." Maxwell pushed something off of the loft.

A leg still wrapped in the shredded brown fabric of a man's trousers fell with a sickening thud on the ground close to them. Slivers of light bent up and curved over the leg, distorted.

"_Sanqui Quis,_" Silvestri said, aiming her wand at blood clinging to the gruesome severed limb. "Uther Fawe." Gold light pulsed and then turned red. "Aha! Well done, Potter. Should slow his ass down if nothing else," Silvestri said, grinning and clapping a delighted hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Good, Harry. Good reflexes," Parnell agreed and nodded at him and then down at the limb. Ron found himself wanting to look away but was too grossly fascinated by it to turn his head.

After the Aurors had swept the remaining corners of the barn and found it empty save for decomposing food and empty wrappers, the group of them broke up to spend the rest of their Sunday in peace.

As he and Harry Apparated into their backyard, Ron glanced at his friends face and saw a self satisfied smirk residing there.

"Yeah, good job in there today," Ron said sincerely. "None of the rest of us got our wands up quick enough."

Harry shrugged good naturedly. "Luck," he said simply. Harry opened the back door first and stepped inside.

"Luck my arse, you - " Ron broke off when he saw Hermione on the couch. She was asleep with her curls pulled to one side and spilling over the side of the couch. Teddy slept on her chest, blanketed by one of Hermione's small hands. The juxtaposition between the gruesome sight of a severed leg and jarring, beautiful peacefulness he got to come home to seemed to him like pieces, moments, from two completely separate lives.


	40. Malfoy and a Pair of Gifts

_. . . Chapter 40 _

_. . . Malfoy and A Pair of Gifts . . ._

* * *

Hermione's fingers loosened of their own accord on the copy of _The Daily Prophet _that she'd opened after finishing her lunch_._ The sheets of the paper drifted noisily down to the desk. The faces of Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, and Narcissa Malfoy stared warily out of the paper at her.

_Malfoys To Be Tried_ flashed and then blinked to reveal the second headline _Witnesses Requested to Come Forward. _Her eyes drifted to the short sentences under the picture of the once untouchable family.

_Malfoy family to be tried for crimes committed during the war and possession of Dark objects. In light of their testimony against other criminals, leniency is being considered. Any witnesses with information that will shed light on the Malfoy family character are requested to contact their attorney, Illard Silles_.

Her fingers felt numb and her heart ached. She knew instantly. She knew she had to step forward and testify on their behalf for what they'd done for her parents. Her throat felt tight. She pulled her robes away from her neck to breathe better, careful to not snag the necklace Ron had given her. She traced her fingertip over the name '_Illard Silles'._ Only the truth. No embellishments. If she was asked, they were present at her torture but did not participate. If she was asked, Draco was always a git to her and regularly used slurs. If she was asked, they were - in her opinion - trapped during the last couple years and were unable to free themselves from You-Know-Who. She raked her fingernails up her temples and into her hair. If anyone had told her a year ago . . .

"Hermione? Alright?" Odette's voice made her jump and look away from the way Draco Malfoy's eyes shifted and his father gripped his mother's arm for support.

"Yeah, fine, just . . ." She glanced again at the Malfoy family before folding the paper and sliding it into the bottom drawer of her desk for safekeeping. Making eye contact with Odette, she forced an easy smile onto her face, "I'm fine."

"Good, will you help me go over this bill? Grayson dumped this on me. He's supposed to be reviewing this for Warr Corken," Odette said, visibly irritated.

"Warr Corken? House-elves?" Hermione asked, ears perking up at the possibility of working on a house-elf project. She stood and dragged her chair over to the other woman's desk.

"That's the one," Odette pushed a stack of papers over to Hermione. "Corken is trying to get a trace of house-elf lines put together. So many were apparently split up over the last year that whole families are scattered. This bill is supposed to put together a task force to reassemble all the families."

Hermione used her thumb to flip through the edges of the papers. They started at 240 and ended at 560. "And how long do we have?"

"Grayson let it sit for a week so _we_ now have a week," Odette said. "A week to read it, review it, add to it if needed."

Bugger. "Great," she said, summoning a quill and a sheet of scrap paper to jot notes on. They weren't getting very far with the Order of Merlin rights for Goblins so a deviation into another territory all together sounded divine. At five, Hermione and Odette stood and made to leave. As she walked to the bank of elevators, she pulled on her heavy outer cloak and wished that a certain tall red-head was going to be accompanying her to Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, Ron had remembered Bill's birthday that morning and Bill's party was to commence at the Burrow tonight.

The other Aurors-in-Training had a training exercise which was being graded for their competency and so Harry and Ron were required to stay until the exercise ended. She winced, hoping she didn't have to go to the Burrow alone and hoping the two of them were ok and whatever 'training' was wasn't too distasteful.

The monotone voice announced that she'd reached the atrium and a rather dapper looking wizard stepped aside gallantly and smiled at her as she stepped out of the lift. She bit her lip and blushed under his gaze, simultaneously uncomfortable and secretly pleased.

In the whipping, cold wind of Diagon Alley, Hermione was silently cursing Ron with every curse she could think of. The winter sun had set and the navy blue of a winter's night had started to set in and the early nightfall had always made her nervous. She pulled the collar of her robe as far up her neck as she could and shamelessly used some of her ample hair to buffer her neck against the wind. Ron had wanted to get Bill a gift from the three of them - Ron, Hermione and Harry - that was at once nice and practical. Ron had suggested a new quill from Scribbulus Writing Instruments that carried a charm. The quills were similar to a quick quotes quill but were better in that they would edit as they went, rather than having to be edited later. Hermione smiled in spite of the bitter, damp cold. It was a particularly thoughtful gift since Bill would soon have his hands full with a newborn.

"Miss!" A old woman was huddled in blankets beside the steps of one shop. "Protective Amulets, get it or you'll find yourself wishing you had."

"No, thank you," Hermione said as politely as she could manage, yanking her sleeve down and cutting her eyes up from the dirty face to the store window above her grey hair.

The window of Jenevive's Junk Shop displayed a myriad of useless items, each more worthless than the next. Busted radios. Broken animal cages. A half-visible invisibility cloak. . . One item, however, drew Hermione's gaze. She stepped closer to the window, careful to stay out of the arm's reach of that old witch and realized -

"_Merlin_," she breathed before quickly turning and going up the few stairs into the shop.

"'Evening, Miss," a young shopkeeper spoke up. "Is there anything that - "

"Yes, this in the window," she pointed at the wrist sheath and hoped that he didn't realize what he had. _Slytherin_, she mentally scolded herself. "I'd like to get a better look at it, please."

"This?" the shopkeeper asked, holding the sheath out to her on one finger. He held it by the metal piece that secured the wand in place. The leather hung uselessly around his fingers. It didn't look like a wrist sheath at all from the way he held it. No idea what he had. She smiled at him.

"Yes, that," she took it from him in the same way he held it. Realizing she needed to try it and make sure it worked before she bought it, she looked around the rest of the shop. "If it's alright, I'd like to keep this and keep looking. . . "

He smiled at her genially. "Sure, Miss, just call if you need assistance with anything," he said and turned away from her. "It's Lenard, by the way," he called out and she nodded absently, waiting for him to go back to the desk.

Moving behind a particularly tall tower of junk - broken brooms, Muggle garden gnomes - Hermione adjusted the leather and metal piece in her hands, slipping the sheath over the scars on her arm and tightening the leather to fit. Her excitement left her almost breathless. She slipped her wand into the metal piece and watched the sheath and wand disappear, leaving her blemished arm in clear view. Hermione ran her fingers over the invisible holster and grinned. She glanced over for shopkeeper Lenard and pulled her wand back out of the scabbard and watched the leather and metal reappear. Chameleon Wand Sheaths were usually really expensive. She felt a twinge of guilt when she saw that this was only two Galleons instead of the more standard four hundred Galleons. Running her fingers over the leather, Hermione realized how perfect this would be for Ron. Not only would this help him be able to draw his wand quicker but these usually came with anti-disarming charms. She flipped it over in her hand. More spells would be needed to make sure it was in perfect working condition but at two Galleons she decided to go ahead and get it for Ron for Christmas. Hermione turned and headed for the counter.

"Find everything alright?" Lenard asked her, taking her discovered treasure and starting to ring her up at the ridiculous bargain price. She hoped it worked. Electric giddiness bubbled up in her system and she fought hard not to look too excited or too guilty for getting the deal. She nodded at the shopkeeper's question. They traded money for Ron's Christmas gift quickly.

"Want a box?" he asked, bending down to get a dark gray box before she could respond.

"Yes, please," she said back, flashing him a toothy grin. Slipping the box into one of the deep pockets inside her outer cloak, Hermione met the cold head on, bolstered by the excitement of finding the gift that pressed against her hip all the way to Scribbulus Writing Instruments. Bill's gift was easy enough to procure and soon enough Hermione had ventured out into the cold and Apparated to the safety and quiet of their frozen back yard. With the backdoor safely shut behind her, she called out in the house - "Harry? Ron?" - and probably for the first time was glad when they weren't present. Turning to go into her room, Hermione pulled the Chameleon Sheath out of her pocket and put it on the bed. Smirking, Hermione tilted her head to the side and decided which spells would be best.

"_Proprius aperio,_" she cast quickly, watching the list of the properties appear above the holster in runes. Aiming her wand at the bookshelf that housed her Ancient Runes NEWTs level book she muttered, "_Accio Ancient Runes book._"

A few minutes later, Hermione stood with growing glee over the gift for Ron. Almost perfect condition. Anti-disarming spells were still in place. Invisibility traits were flawless. A couple scratches in the leather from wear were the only marks on the item. Marks in the leather. . .

She carefully spread the strap that would be on the inside of Ron's arm near the elbow on the bed with one hand. Fixing her wand in her hand securely, Hermione bent over the leather and carefully inscribed _Ronald Weasley_ in her tight script on the band. She glanced up at the clock in the room, almost fifteen after seven. She was already late for the Burrow. With the gift back in its dark grey box and slid under the bed, Hermione hurried to the living room to Floo to the Burrow for Bill's birthday, checking that his quill and box were safely in her pocket. She glanced over at Harry's clock to make sure - Ron and Harry: Work. She breathed out, "The Burrow," and flew by grates until the familiar scene of the Weasley's living room swam into view.

Stumbling out of the hearth gracelessly, she stepped onto a few copies of the _Daily Prophet _that had been spread out on the rug to help prevent ash falling onto the old carpet. Three pictures of the Malfoy family looked up at her from under her shoes. She would've laughed if the symbology of that didn't make her remember her urge to testify on their behalf. Nausea washed over her. It was the right thing to do, she inhaled a deep breath for strength and headed into the Burrow's noisy kitchen.

"Hermione!" Percy saw and greeted her first as she shed her outer cloak and Ministry robe to hang both on the hooks in the doorway. Her jeans and red sweater combo were going to have to be festive enough.

"'Evening, all," she greeted, moving around the table to hug a still-standing Mrs. Weasley. She snuck a look at the table, everyone had apparently just served plates. "Sorry I'm late, I tried to wait on Ron and Harry but - " She broke off and shrugged.

"They alright?" Mr. Weasley's clear voice rang out from the other side of the table.

"Yes, I checked the clock before I left," she nodded at Mr. Weasley. "Work." Her eyes connected with Bills as she slid into her usual seat at the table. "Bill, happy birthday! I've got - " She gestured back at her robes.

"Oh, we'll do all that later. Let's tuck in, I'm starving," Bill said, eyeing his nearly raw meet hungrily. He glanced back up at her and she read warmth intermingled with a bit of pity there. "Thanks, Hermione."

She nodded and gritted her teeth together behind her close-lipped smile. Mrs. Weasley's chair scraped the floor when she took her place. Mrs. Weasley was almost always the last person to sit down, fluttering about the kitchen to make sure that everyone had everything they needed before she saw to herself. While they ate, she quickly did the math. If Ron was eighteen, nineteen in March, then Bill was twenty eight. Right? Right, because Ron would have been only months old at Bill's tenth so, yes that was right. She nodded down at the peas on her plate before she could stop herself and glanced around to make sure no one noticed her apparent agreement with the peas. The conversation turned to focus on Fleur and her slowly rounding stomach. Mrs. Weasley gave the other young woman tips on nausea, the best kind of enchanted sheets for babies to sleep on and a litany of other advice.

The thud of a boot in the living room had Hermione immediately up and out of her chair and walking quickly to find Harry and Ron both looking muddy but smiling in the Weasley living room.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted, shedding his mud covered boots on the copies of the _Prophet_. Another meaningful symbol perhaps.

"'Mi," Ron greeted, flashing her a smile and moving to copy Harry's movements.

"You're both alright?" Hermione asked, feeling the Weasley family come up behind her. Ron grinned over her head at his family and Hermione realized it had gone well. "How'd you both do?"

"Oh, brilliant," Ron answered, stepping onto the rug in his socks. "Actually, the exercise was a run," he gestured at the mud-covered boots. "And then we had to secure a building - "

" - only using Stunning spells, course - " Harry piped up, moving to stand beside Ron. Mrs. Weasley moved around the two of them to check them over with her wand.

"Right, yeah - where other Aurors were and Harry and I both passed - "

" - but the other Aurors-in-Training failed: Hammett Collins, Esthero Eisley," Harry finished, shedding his damp and muddy outer robe. Hermione wondered suddenly if they realized they finished each other sentences now. The three of them had always been able to read the other ones well but since this last year - and with that fragment of You-Know-Who's soul gone from Harry's, she suspected - Harry and Ron always seemed to connect better.

Hermione smiled up at the two of them as they pulled off their robes. Harry looked around for a moment as if to put it somewhere.

"So you both passed? Congratulations!" Percy's voice came from behind her.

"Really, that was your first exercise right?" Bill asked the two of them, moving to take Harry's and Ron's robes.

"Yeah, it was," Ron supplied and Hermione caught him drag his eyes over her shape in her form-fitting attire and bit her lip to keep from smiling.

"Blimey, passing your first one," Bill clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder. "Well done, both of you. I think the last person who . . . " Bill trailed off but gave them both a kind smile. Hermione wondered which of their fallen friends he was going to name before he thought better of it. Tonks maybe. . .

"Well!" Mrs. Weasley finished checking Harry and Ron and broke her out of her consideration. "We've got supper on the table so we'll eat and you'll catch us all up!"

Over their resumed dinner, Percy poured everyone save Fleur a glass of wine. Ron caught her eye and smirked at her and she sipped on her one glass slowly for the rest of the evening.

"So then how many Aurors-in-Training are there, then? In the program?" Mr. Weasley asked at one point.

"We don't know, exactly. So many fail exercises and have to start over at the level they passed before or even at the beginning of training," Harry explained and Hermione noted a proud edge to his voice. She had never had any doubt that they would pass. Harry and Ron had essentially been in training since first year.

"What's your best guess though? I mean they don't let everyone in training eventually become an Auror, do they?" Bill asked, leaning back in his chair.

"No," Ron answered. "No, it's only a few that will pass everything and then those few have to prove themselves out in the field and office as a Junior Auror before they are deemed ready to join the department." Ron's countenance darkened and she knew he was remembering Bremmer's short foray as a Junior Auror.

"Well if two Aurors-in-Training can make it, it'll be you two," Bill said, lifting his glass of wine. "To our two Aurors!"

"Our Aurors," Hermione chimed in with the rest of the Weasleys and lifted her glass and took a tiny sip.

"You can't toast other people on your own birthday!" Ron laughed. "To Bill, many happy returns!"

A chorus of "To Bill" rang out around the large table.

After dinner the lot of them had retired to the living room where Bill was being hassled by Mrs. Weasley to open gifts. When Bill agreed to play his part and open gifts, Mrs. Weasley left the room to return moments later, levitating a large box in front of her.

"'Mi?" Ron leaned against her side and his breath hit her ear lightly.

"Pocket of my robes," she breathed back. "Want me to -?"

"No, I'll get it, baby," Ron whispered to her, putting a hand on her knee to push himself up off of the couch. She'd never let him know exactly how much she liked it when he called her baby but if his more frequent use of the nickname lately was any indication, he knew.

Bill opened the gift from his mum, a box full of baby quilts and clothes she had made for Bill along with a newly knitted Weasley blanket in pink and white. It was more for the baby than Bill but Hermione was glad that Bill seemed to love it all the same. Their quill was well received, Bill thanked all three of them in turn for the gift. Percy gave him a nice dragon hide jacket - charcoal gray. George sent a gift but hadn't made it for the evening so Bill said he'd open that later. Hermione felt her eyes drawn to the mud-covered copies of the _Daily Prophet_. The Malfoy family portrait splashed with mud and here Hermione was, a Mudblood, about to agree to testify on their behalf. She sighed. Tomorrow, she'd send the owl tomorrow. Resisting the urge to scratch her arm, Hermione leaned against Ron's side.

"Tired?" he whispered against the side of her head.

"A bit," she answered honestly.

"Harry?" Ron called his friends attention from the other side of Hermione.

"Hm?"

"Ready to go home? I'm knackered," Ron put the arm against Hermione's side over her shoulders and squeezed her upper arm.

"Sure, yeah," Harry said, glancing around the room. Hermione knew he missed Ginny, he'd be loads more reluctant to leave if Ginny were here.

The three of them stood and started saying their goodbyes.

"Hermione? A word?" Bill leaned down to say softly to her. She cut her eyes over at Ron standing with Percy. Nodding with a feeling of dread, Hermione followed him into the now abandoned kitchen.

"How are you?" he studied her face as he asked it.

"Fine, why?" she tersely responded.

"Well, we've been looking into it and trying to find other ways to combat it," he said. There was no reason to question what 'it' was. "Curse breaking only works if there is a curse and it was a prophecy so there's not much I can do," Bill spilled out. "It's just that. . . well you three need to stay on your guard. I know you don't like talking about it," he said quickly when she rolled her eyes, "but this, Hermione, is important."

"I don't like talking about it because I don't believe it. Trelawney was only _right_ when her prophecies were misconstrued and interpreted loosely," she huffed out in an agitated whisper. "Besides, we're always on our guard." As she said it, her heart sank. She had gone to Diagon Alley alone just today at dusk and stayed until after nightfall. An unnecessary risk.

"Be that as it may, it is important that you stay alert, alright?" Bill asked, running his eyes over her face and bringing his hands to her shoulders.

"Alright, I just - "

"Hermione, for Ron's sake? He loves you, Hermione. At Shell Cottage, I thought. . ." Bill shifted his weight and his fingers tightened on her shoulders. "If you hadn't woken up, or if you'd woken up as . . . less than coherent, Fleur and I were worried he'd. . . That he'd do something drastic." Bill didn't say the words revenge or suicide but she saw them plainly in his eyes and heard it in his tone. "So promise me, for Ron, you'll take this seriously and keep yourself safe."

"I promise," she said shakily. For Ron.

"Good girl," Bill said, releasing his grip on her. "Take care of each other."

She recognized her gentle dismissal and went back in the living room to find Ron and Harry waiting on her at the fireplace.

"Ready?" Harry asked brightly. Ron narrowed his eyes a bit at her. She nodded at them.

"Bye, you three. See you soon," Mrs. Weasley called as the green flash pulled them away.

At their house an hour later, Harry stood and left the living room to write Ginny after a miserable failed attempt to best Ron at chess. She resisted the urge to call after Harry and ask if she could use his owl to owl the Malfoy's, immediately thinking better of it. A Ministry owl would be better. Not only would the Ministry owl probably be better received than Harry Potter's owl but she also wanted to wait to tell Harry and Ron until she knew more.

"'Mione?" Ron asked from the floor where he was putting away his chess set.

"Ron?" she said cheekily back from where she lay on the couch with her book.

"What'd Bill say to you tonight?"

She knew Ron always was suspicious that she kept things from him so she cleared her throat to answer. It didn't escape her notice that she was keeping the Malfoy's from him as well.

"He told me to be careful," she said, shoving a slip of paper into the book to keep her place. "Said that we should be taking the prophecy more seriously than we are. Said that they tried to look into using curse-breaking to counter it but there's really nothing they could find on it." She tried to push it all from her mouth at a dull monotone, injecting no feeling into her words and hoping that Ron wouldn't either.

"Oh," Ron breathed out and stood from the rug with the chess set tucked under one arm. His eyes burned with something like panic and passion tied together. _Worried he'd do something drastic. _Bill's face flickered across her mind. _For Ron_.

"I'm taking it seriously, Ron. I promise," she said softly, sitting up on the couch. "We're being careful." Again, her trip to Diagon Alley seemed more risky every time she thought about it.

"I know," he breathed out, turning from her and putting the chess set in the cabinet to the right of the fireplace. He stayed with his back turned to her for a couple long seconds.

"I live with two Aurors-in-Training that successfully passed an exercise today, who's going to mess with us?" she said lightly, trying to get him to turn towards her, remember his happiness from earlier.

He turned around and met her eyes. Not amused, he crossed both arms across his chest and leaned against the cabinets. "Just . . . just promise me you won't take any risks, ok? That you won't go looking for some cause and end up mixed up with something, alright?"

Did he know about the Malfoy's? Had he seen the _Daily Prophet_ and known her well enough to know what she'd want to do?

"I promise," she lied. At once her conscience felt guilty at the lie and justified that she needed to do the right thing. This wasn't really getting mixed up in anything, either. It was about justice and right and wrong. About a family being punished for being unable to escape the influence of You-Know-Who.

Ron nodded at her in approval of the little white lie.

Little white lies, secrets, hidden emotions, Elder Wands, Death Eaters, prophecies. Weariness suddenly completely overwhelmed her.

"Come on, let's go to bed," she spoke as she stood off of the couch and moved to take Ron's hand, unwinding it from where it crossed over his strong chest. She heard him sigh before letting her pull him gently into their room. When he shut the door behind him, she turned to meet his gaze. The air was completely different in this room, a sanctuary almost.

She brought both of her hands to the hem of her sweater and pulled it up and off of herself brazenly. Ron exhaled roughly but kept his feet firmly at the door. She pulled her wand out of its spot in her back pocket and put it on her bedside table without turning her back to him. His eyes flicked down to her simple white bra and back to her face. Blue eyes shut for a second and teeth clenched before Ron opened his eyes and closed the distance between them, putting both hands at her hips and pulling her flush against him. His lips hit hers roughly and she met him motion for motion. He lowered them gently to the bed, his torso hovering above hers. Their hips ground together and Hermione moaned out lightly against his mouth.

When they were joined in that most intimate and perfect way and Ron hovered above her on his elbows, gently holding her face still with one hand with his thumb brushing her cheek as she gasped under him, one phrase repeated itself in her mind with their rhythm: _for Ron for Ron for Ron_.


	41. Drimet and a Ring

_. . . Chapter 41_

_. . . Drimet and a Ring . . . _

* * *

Ron stood behind Harding, waiting for Harding to nod in the moonlight and give him the signal to cross the expanse of grass between this line of trees and the next. A small campsite was set up in clear view where Harding, Keyling, and Quord had quickly performed the counter spells to bring down the wards.

After they'd - Ron and Harry - had passed the exercise on Bill's birthday, Harding had asked that he and Harry be given full raid plans. Ron and Harry no longer had to follow Harding and Parnell blindly in raids but would be, on a case by case basis, allowed to participate in raids as a individuals. Harding nodded and Ron moved quickly, silently over the grass and took his spot behind a tree that hid him from the camp site that was strangely reminiscent of their own camp last year. Shimmers of the other Disillusioned Aurors and Junior Aurors alerted him to them taking their places as well. Only Harding, Keyling, Quord, Russell, and Silvestri were to approach fully visible. That had been one of Ron's suggestions to Harding when Harding was planning the raid. The five visible Aurors will approach from one direction, using shield charms and other defensive spells, while the group of fifteen Disillusioned Aurors would come from the opposite direction and bind and arrest Drimet.

Harding held out two fingers. The next signal. As Ron silently wove between the trees to get to the other side of the camp site, he wondered where Harry was. If Harry was present in the shimmering air beside him or if he was one of the ones farther away .

"Liam Drimet," Harding called out. Part of the plan. The Aurors had added anti-Disapparation barriers to the site. "This is Chalden Harding, you're under arrest for treason, espionage, and your support of Tom Riddle in the Final Battle in May. Come out with your hands up."

The yellow glow of the tent revealed a shadow trying to frantically move about. Once Ron saw him twist as if to Apparate and bit down on his lip to keep from smirking.

"Drimet, last chance and we're coming in there," Harding shouted at the entry of the tent. From his vantage point, Ron watched the five Aurors spread into a chevron position with Harding on point.

"_AVADA - " _Drimet burst from the tent.

"_Stupefy_!" "_Immobulus_!" "_Protego_!" "_Stupefy_!" A chorus of unorganized voices exploded around him.

"_Incarcerous_!" Ron shouted the spell to bind Drimet as planned. Drimet collapsed in a heap on the forest floor. Harry's voice had clearly been the one casting the shield charm and Ron grinned in the direction of the voice, pleased when Harry cancelled his Disillusionment Charm and confirmed his thoughts.

Ron undid his charm as well as he walked over to Harding. "That went well," Ron piped in.

"Quite," Harding said, smirking over at him and back down at the Death Eater on the ground before them.

"That's that," Parnell's loud voice carried and echoed oddly off of the trees. "Well planned, Chalden," Parnell said, turning from them to Drimet's still form. "Bloody well planned."

"That's Weasley," Harding said, pointing him out to Parnell. A few other Aurors turned to look at him. Ron hoped his face didn't look as hot as it felt. "Weasley suggested the Disillusionment Charms, tricking Drimet into coming out to face a smaller group. Well done, Ron," Harding said, injecting the phrase with approval. Ron nodded mutely back at the group of them looking his way.

"That strategy made this almost easy," Elwood said, appearing beside them. "I for one am ready to head home and catch some shut eye."

"Me too, gotta get this loaf to Azkaban first though," Harding said, nudging Drimet with the toe of his boot. "Russell, will - "

"I'll go," Ron heard himself speak up. "I'm with you and you just need another person there as a safety precaution right?"

Harding nodded at him, smiling slightly. "That's a good idea. Russell, you go home. Say high to Ophelia for me." Russell nodded and trudged up a small embankment, disappearing among the trees as he walked out from under the Anti-Apparation barrier.

Ron caught Harry's eye. Harry nodded at him once and Ron knew he didn't have to tell him to look in on Hermione and explain.

"Elwood and Silvestri are to catalogue the scene so you and I are ready to take this," Harding indicated Drimet, "to Azkaban. Ready?"

"Yes, sir. Ready," he answered, watching Harding levitate Drimet up from the ground. "How exactly - "

"Do we get to Azkaban?" Harding asked, his breath puffing out in frigid night air.

"Yeah," Ron answered, feeling the ripple of the Anti-Apparation wards as he walked through. "I thought it was unplottable."

"Oh, it is," Harding stopped and grabbed onto the robes binding Drimet's legs. "There's a safe Apparation point for Aurors and the occasional visitor to use, then we turn Drimet over to the guards. Guards take people the rest of the way. I've never seen Azkaban in person. Hope never to, either. Grab hold," Harding said, nodding at Drimet's bindings and Ron did as he bade. A squeezing disorienting pop brought them to a black tiled room that reminded him immediately of the corridors within the Ministry. Masked guards stood behind a desk made of ornately carved stone.

"Arrestee's name," a guard commanded. Ron glanced up to see which one but the masks made it hard to tell.

"Liam Drimet," Harding answered, lowering Drimet to the floor. Several guards came forward to remove and vanish Drimet's bindings.

"Wand?" A guard stepped forward and began writing in an enormous book with a black quill.

"Yes, here," Harding produced Drimet's wand from the folds of his robe and the guard took it, handing it off to another guard behind him. Drimet was being levitated out a door behind the desk and group of guards.

"Arrester's name," came a gruff order. The guard writing looked up. "Both."

"Chalden Harding," Harding answered and then waved a hand at Ron. "Ronald Weasley."

"Very well," the guard that had taken down the information stood and resumed standing with the other guards. "You may go."

"Ron," Harding said, taking Ron's arm and Disapparating before Ron could take a final glance around the room. "Good job tonight, Ron," Harding said, stepping back from him. Ron looked around, they were outside the Ministry.

"Not friendly, are they?" Ron asked, glancing down at his watch. One o'clock in the morning.

"Would you be if you were a guard at Azkaban?" Harding laughed back.

"Guess not," Ron intoned.

"Really, Ron," Harding said, preparing to Disapparate away. "Very good today. See you tomorrow." With that, Harding had blinked away from the sidewalk. Ron let himself grin before Apparating to his own backyard.

He landed in the silent back yard. Glancing up at Harry's window told Ron that Harry was already in bed. All the windows were dark, making the night moonlight and starlight feel brighter than usual. Inside, the warm air tingled against his face and he slid out of his boots and robes in the living room to keep from waking Hermione. He glanced over at the clock. A quick scan of it told him everyone was where they were supposed to be. He tiptoed over the wooden floorboards and cast a quick silencing charm on Hermione's door. Little flames that Hermione had created danced in jars on her bedside table and dresser. Her Ancient Runes text book was open on the bed beside her. She'd tried to wait up reading. He smirked over her sleeping body and pulled the book gently out from under one small hand.

Extinguishing the small flames as he slid into her spot - his was taken by his witch - Ron felt his limbs grow heavy on the mattress.

An unidentifiable moan came from Hermione. More whine than moan.

"Baby?" he whispered in response.

"S'alwayslikeitwhenyousaythat," she slurred out sleepily. He grinned at the back of her head and turned on his side to pull her back against his chest.

"Goodnight, baby," Ron whispered.

"Hmmnught," she breathed out. He exhaled one silent laugh at her inability to speak when half-asleep.

The next day at work was a smear of writing reports on the night before and studying - always endless studying. The only big break in the monotony of the work day was today's cover of the _Daily Prophet. _ A large picture of the toad was anchored by the headline:

_Dolores Umbridge to Azkaban_

The article went on to say she would serve five years for conspiracy, sedition, slander, and abusing unsuspecting drinkers with Veritaserum. Ron's sense of justice with the toad said she should have served longer than five but five would have to do. He was in the Auror department not the Wizengamot.

When the chime struck five, Ron stood, shutting his book and tucking the nearly constant companion under his arm before walking over to Harry's desk.

"Harry, are you going straight home?" Ron asked, hoping that Harry was. He'd forgotten to ask earlier in the day.

"Yeah, why?" Harry shut his book and made to stand.

Ron handed Harry his book and Harry accepted it wordlessly. "Christmas," he ground out with a grimace. Harry's face lit up.

"For Hermione?"

"Yeah," Ron scratched his neck just below his ear. "I have no idea what I'm looking for."

"Don't get her a book. I got her a book," Harry advised, falling into step beside Ron as they walked to the lifts. "Jewelry?"

"I wasn't going to get her a book," Ron huffed out impatiently. "I guess I'm going to go back to the place I got her necklace and start there."

The grille of the lift clanged shut.

"Harry will you go home with her today and tell her . . . I don't know, tell her I'm working late," Ron said, pushing the button for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"Lie to Hermione. . . sure. No way she'll see through that," Harry answered as the lift lurched to a stop on Hermione's floor. "Good luck," he called out over his shoulder to Ron.

Bloody hell he should've started shopping earlier. Here he was ten days until Christmas and Hermione already had the tree up and his present from her was already wrapped under it. He wiped his hands on the front of his robes, dreading stepping out into the sleeting weather. The walk up Diagon Alley was an assault of red and green and gold and noise and cheerful albeit cold faces.

Stepping into the jewelry store with number fingers and toes, Ron heard the bell above the door chime to announce his presence. The same girl that'd helped him for Hermione's birthday stood from behind the glass counter.

"Good evening, sir," she greeted. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Um . . ." _Yes, something perfect for Hermione_, he thought. "Not really, I just - "

"Well, sir, would you like to take a look at our lockets? Very unique pieces, our lockets can be instilled with magical signatures - "

"No!" Lockets, bloody hell. Enough bleeding lockets to last him a lifetime. "No, I'll just. . . .look about," he said softly and watched her narrow her eyes at him in suspicion before she nodded and gestured for him to look around the shop.

The cases of glass over jewelry lined the counter and the sides of the shop. Anxious to find something Ron walked to one side of the store and started looking. The charm necklace had been so right that he almost wished something that fit Hermione would just fall into his lap. His eyes were suddenly glued to the glittering objects in the case to his left. Immediately, it felt like someone had punched him in the stomach and thrown him back outside in the freezing sleet.

Engagement rings lined up in rows gleamed and glittered back at him. Hermione and he had talked about getting married in a more abstract way. They hadn't talked about when or getting engaged or . . . would she want to get engaged at this point in their lives? Did he? Yes, his mind answered instantly, he did. The realization was terrifying. Terrifying and amazing and wonderful and horrible and shattering and healing. Blue eyes lingered over a few rings.

"Want me to take a few out for you?"

Ron jumped, he hadn't seen the saleswitch move over to where he stood. "Um. . . " Merlin was he really doing this? "Yes, please."

He looked over the rings. A couple of them featured black diamonds. Absolutely not.

"Well, is she a simple girl or - "

"No," Ron actually grinned up at the shopkeeper. "She is not a simple girl."

"Well, what sort of jewelry does she like?"

"She. . . I don't know. She doesn't wear much of it. I. . . " Bloody hell he wasn't going to be able to do this.

The saleswitch pulled the trays of rings out and set them on top of the glass. Some rings had a matching wedding band and others came alone. He'd want to get her a set so that the wedding band went with it, right?

One set drew his attention and he reached for it, glancing up at the shopkeeper and receiving an encouraging nod. The rings were dainty, white gold, the front of the wedding band glittered with tiny diamonds. The engagement ring was carved ornately and inlayed with other small diamonds with one larger, circular diamond raised in the middle. Pulse racing, he slid the set onto his pinky where it fit halfway down.

"Good taste," the witch said approvingly, watching him turn his pinky in the light of the store. "That's a new wedding set based on some vintage jewelry designs. Our in-house jeweler creates those in the back. One of a kind."

One of a kind.

"How long have you been together?" The shopkeeper asked kindly and Ron tore his eyes off of the wedding rings on his pinky.

"Together?" Ron swallowed. How to answer that. "Together for. . . since May but it," he cleared his throat and felt his ears heat up, "it is kind of longer than that when you know how long we've known each other."

The witch pursed her lips and Ron watched her raise one eyebrow. What if it was too soon? What if Hermione thought, as this witch obviously did, that it might not have been long enough. He stared down at the rings on his finger, at the way the wedding band bent to fit the curve of the engagement ring, at the light glinting off of the faces of the diamonds.

"It's 450 Galleons for that set," the witch announced kindly. "We do accept payment plans if that'd be preferable."

One of a kind. . . That wasn't too much for a ring set, especially one this perfect for Hermione. But Merlin if she turned him down. They hadn't talked about it seriously enough, had they? Reluctantly, Ron put the rings back in the slit in the cushion he'd picked them up from.

Realizing she might be losing the sale, the witch spoke quickly. "I can do 400 Galleons for that set if that's - "

"Maybe I'll just look at something else," Ron said, feeling his face heat up horribly.

"But you want to get her these," the witch said, more of a statement than a question. Ron nodded stiffly but walked to the next case. Rings with semi-precious stones. Ron saw a pearl ring after a few minutes that was pretty but couldn't touch the feel he'd had when he looked at the engagement ring set. Walking to the case with the nice but second choice ring, Ron pulled out the bag of Galleons he'd withdrawn from Gringotts last week.

"This pearl ring is 50 Galleons," the witch said, pulling a ring box out from under the counter. As Ron counted out the money the witch grabbed his hand. "If, for any reason, you change your mind about the other set," she nodded over to the engagement ring set that was safely back in the case and let go of his hand. "I will hold that set for you and take the pearl ring back as the first payment, alright, sweetheart?"

"Alright, thanks," he said, continuing to count. Now how would he bring up marriage without Hermione without tipping her off. What would he do if she said 'not yet'? Give her the pearl ring, he supposed.

"I'll hold it for you until the day after Christmas Day," she shut the ring box closed with a snap.

Back in Diagon Alley, his lungs suddenly felt shallow. Ten days to decide. This morning he was wondering what he'd buy her for Christmas and now . . . This pearl ring weighted down his pocket with significance. How was he supposed to act around her now? He found himself shaking when he pushed his own back door open and found Harry and Hermione in the living room immediately inside. Harry sat up, instantly alert.

"Guess what Hermione is doing," Harry started in a rush, waving what appeared to be a rolled up letter around in the air. Hermione's head snapped to look up at him over the back of the couch.

"No, Ron, it's - "

"Remember that article in the _Daily Prophet _about the Malfoy family? Hermione is sneaking off to go testify on their behalf," Harry rushed out.

"It's not like that. I was going to tell you both about it," Hermione cried out. Ron shut the door behind himself and was careful when he took off his robes to not let the ring box fall out of the pocket.

"You're doing what, exactly?" Ron asked, collapsing onto the couch beside Hermione.

"I thought . . . " Hermione said, shifting on the cushion of the couch to face him. "I saw the article in the _Prophet_ about their attorney asking for people to testify on their behalf and - "

"You didn't. You're not, are you?" he asked, searching her face before glancing at Harry behind Hermione who nodded at him grimly. "You are. Of course, you are. Bleeding hearts, unite," he mumbled.

"Don't belittle it, Ronald," Hermione shot back. "Narcissa Malfoy pretty much saved Harry's life in the Forbidden Forest and the two of them, Narcissa and Draco, did _that_ for my parents. And then even you could probably tell that Draco didn't want us captured and tortured and during the - "

"Fine," Ron breathed out. He couldn't hear her string words like 'torture' or 'Manor' or 'Malfoy' together. He bit back the urge to remind her about Malfoy poisoning him.

Like that engagement ring, Hermione was not simple. He felt a shudder try to rise up his spine and squared his shoulders to keep it from showing. "When? What's the plan?" he asked unenthusiastically.

"The trial won't be until February. I'm going to speak to their lawyer in January to have a deposition," Hermione said softly. "You're not mad are you?"

Yes, a bit. "No," he forced himself to answer. "I just wish that sometimes you'd talk things over with me before going off and doing them."

Things like buying an engagement ring. . . he'd made the right choice buying the pearl ring. Hearing those words come out of his own mouth seemed to confirm it. She didn't talk about testifying in the trials of Death Eaters with him, didn't ask his opinion when she was ready to defend the people - the _very same_ people - who had tortured her less than a year ago. He hadn't talked to her yet about the very real, hopefully very near possibility of getting married. They needed to talk about it seriously before he could even consider the ring.

Hermione was nodding absently at the roaring fire in the fireplace. "I'm sorry, I should've talked to you about it first but it's important to me and you wouldn't have talked me out of it."

"I would've liked the chance," he grumbled.

"Harry will you be testifying as well?" Hermione asked, still staring into the fire with the light playing on her face.

"Why would - "

"Because she lied for you in the Forbidden Forest," Hermione interrupted.

"Maybe," Harry answered noncommittally. No. Harry meant no.

"It's the right thing to do," murmured her soft voice as Hermione pushed herself off of the brown fabric of the couch. "Mushroom barley soup tonight," she said, leaving the room.

"She's right," Harry spoke up. Ron cut his eyes over at him incredulously. "It's the right thing to do. She's right," he explained.

Ron groaned and picked up a small pillow off the couch and held it over his face, grumbling, "She's always right," into the pillow. One of a kind. . . . he hoped that ring was still waiting when the time was right.


	42. Time with Teddy and Broken Glass

_. . . Chapter 42 _

_. . . Time with Teddy and Broken Glass . . . _

* * *

Hermione unlocked the back door with her wand, balancing Teddy carefully on her hip. Another owl had come to the Ministry today from Andromeda, asking Harry to take Teddy for the next few days while Ted was back in St. Mungo's. Hermione didn't have much experience with witches and wizards but the number of times Ted had become sick in the last months was suspect. She wondered if witches and wizards could manifest feelings into illness – the loss of his only child and his son-in-law. It was enough, Hermione thought, to drive anyone to be heartsick.

She shut the freezing cold out and pushed the door closed behind her with her foot. She dropped Teddy's diaper bag onto the sofa as she walked by on the way to the kitchen. He turned to look back at the bag she'd dropped and shrieked at her, starting his banshee cry for the bag. Hermione sighed deeply and turned back around with the infant.

"What do you want, Teddy?" Hermione asked, rhetorically. She shuffled through the bag. "Blankey?" She pulled out the blue fleece blanket that Teddy was developing an attachment to. It was the only thing that Teddy brought to and from their house. It'd be sad to have the only constant in your life be a bloody blanket, she thought to herself. Teddy quieted immediately and Hermione bent down to carefully put the baby down and lay the blanket out beside him on the rug in the living room. They'd had to baby proof the house recently as Teddy became more mobile, crawling and pulling up to stand using the furniture to balance on. Teddy was perfectly content then with the blankey beside him on the floor so Hermione stood and moved to the kitchen, muttering under her breath as she went, "Twenty four pounds of bipolar, you are."

She put on the tea to warm herself up and as the water heated on the stove, Hermione walked into the living room to check on Teddy who had inched closer to the Christmas tree in the corner. Hermione smirked at the tree, naked on the lower two feet of the tree because Teddy had developed an insatiable interest in the ornaments. She moved around the back of their tree and plugged it in. The odd combination of Muggle and magical in their house made her feel cozy and reminded her of elements at her parents house. They'd encouraged her to use magic as much as she wanted that last summer when she was of age at home. She smiled at the memory, gazing into the glass ornament on her eye level. She glanced down at the gifts under the tree. Today was the 21st and then they would go to the Hogwarts Christmas party on the 22nd. It'd just be mostly staff and alums and it should be fun, Hermione had reasoned. Then on the 23rd they were, blissfully, doing nothing. Then the 24th, Hermione, Ron, and Harry would be at their house where they were having a group of friends over. Then they would be, on the 25th, at the Weasley house where Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Percy and his girlfriend, and George and Ginny, of course, would all be gathering. Just thinking about it all was exhausting. She pushed the red-wrapped gift she'd bought for Ron with her toe to put it more securely under the evergreen branches of the tree.

"Blaaah!" Teddy shrieked out, looking up at her from his position on all fours on his blankey in the middle of the rug. He grinned up at her with his gummy smile when she turned and looked at him. She hurried to go take the screaming tea kettle off of the stove and fixed the tea quickly. She quickly took a cup with her back into the living room with a hyper Teddy. She dropped to her knees beside him, shed her shoes, and paid Teddy the attention she knew he needed after the day he'd spent with Andromeda in the waiting area of 's. They played until Teddy made a mess of his diaper and Hermione rolled her eyes at the stink of him, holding him as far away from her body as she could manage as she trekked up the stairs with him to Harry's room where Teddy's crib sat.

Once Teddy was clean and Hermione was thoroughly disgusted, Hermione took him downstairs to get him some food. They'd recently been trying out some more adult-type foods for Teddy and his favorite new flavor was vanilla yogurt. Hermione had tried to tell Harry that a baby shouldn't live purely on dairy products but Teddy would reject any mashed vegetable and Harry always laughed at her and said some variation of, _"I'll feed him what he likes; Andromeda always feeds him what he needs. I only get him for a bit at a time, why turn the food part of it all into a war?"_

Hermione maneuvered him into his highchair, threading his feet through the holes. She fetched him some yogurt – she hated to say it but Harry was right about the food war part – and one of his baby spoons and fed him his dinner. It was approaching seven at night, Hermione saw on the clock. Harry and Ron must be more tied up than they'd thought earlier when they'd sent her the note at the Ministry. Thank Merlin that Grayson had been flexible with her about missing work. Harry had told her he'd be home in time to feed Teddy but they always fed him at six, she was an hour late on dinner . . . .Oh well, she decided, we won't tell Harry.

"Harry won't know I fed you late, you would've cried if you were particularly hungry anyway, yeah?" Hermione asked him, bringing another spoonful of yogurt to his mouth. "Yeah, I know." She talked to him like he responded. Feeling ridiculous, she laughed at herself lightly.

"So Teddy, how've you been?" Hermione laughed to herself and talked to him. "Oh good . . . me? Yes, I've been just fine just studying for NEWTs and working on the Order of Merlin articles for a few goblins, you know. . ." She cackled crazily at her own joke and Teddy scowled at her, smacking yogurt around in his tiny mouth. She grinned at him and wiped the corners of his mouth with a soft napkin.

Once Teddy had finished his supper, Hermione took him with her to the living room, spreading him out again on the rug and sitting with her back against the couch. She spread her feet apart so that her legs made a 'V'. This way she could feel Teddy leave and crawl off if she was too distracted by her reading. She picked up her book, "Advanced Transfiguration", and started to study the concept of inanimate transfiguration into a humanoid creature. Teddy bumped against her right ankle before she had finished the first paragraph.

"Ugh, no, Teddy," she put her book down and dragged him back up to her knees, putting him on his back and summoning a few of the non-breakable ornaments off of the tree. She spelled them to twirl and bob out of Teddy's reach over his head. Satisfied with her handiwork, she picked up her book again. An hour and a half later, when Hermione had finished the chapter she gently closed the large tome and looked down at Teddy whose eyes were shut underneath the impromptu mobile that she had created. Hermione silently banished the ornaments back to their spots on the twinkling Christmas tree. She carefully picked Teddy and his little blankey up, trying not to disturb or wake him. She stood slowly, letting the blood rush back into her legs as she moved from sitting in one position for too long. She carried the baby up the stairs and laid him gently in his crib, lifting the rail on the side to its locked position. She double checked that the curtains in Harry's room were shut – maybe Harry would actually get a full night of sleep tonight, she hoped.

Eventually, Hermione thought, if they took Teddy full time or even just for longer chunks of time, they would need to get him set up in the guest room downstairs. Hermione could shrink the guest bed and move the crib and changing table down there and – voila – instant baby room. Of course, that'd mean hers and Ron's evenings could be disturbed by Teddy but no one could live in the same room with a baby all the time. Especially not with Ginny around frequently once school let out if they renewed the lease. Harry hadn't mentioned any proposal plans for Ginny with Hermione since October and frankly, it made Hermione wonder if he didn't want her input. It was his proposal to have but, well, she wanted to be included if he changed his mind and didn't wait until her graduation. Their graduation, Hermione mentally amended. She'd be walking as well with the completion of her NEWTs exams in late April.

She yawned as she entered the kitchen, flicking her hair over her shoulder restlessly. No use waiting on the boys to get there for dinner as it was quickly approaching nine o'clock. She stuck her head in the refrigerator and didn't find anything appetizing. The pantry was pretty much the same story. She pulled out a box of cereal and poured a bowl of the flakes, splashed it with milk, and – shrugging to herself – poured a large glass of merlot. Who would judge her for her wine and cereal combo? Teddy? She grinned, wondering if now that her conversation partner was asleep if she'd be forced to start chatting with Crookshanks. She sat at the table alone and finished off her cereal quickly. She took the bowl to the sink and picked up her glass of red wine on the way to the living room to keep studying. A little while later, Hermione heard a muffled voice outside. She glanced up at the clock: ten thirty.

She stood. Thank Merlin, Harry and Ron were finally home. She went to the mirror in the living room, pinching her cheeks, smoothing her hair, and wiping her lips which were slightly purple from drinking her wine. She pulled the black scoop-neck shirt down a bit so that her chest looked a bit larger in the long sleeve shirt. She fumbled with the clasp on the necklace Ron had given her from her birthday and made sure that the three stones were turned the right way. She smoothed her hands over her legs on her jeans and walked to the back door and glanced out the small window. No one was in the back yard, Hermione's shoulders sank at the site of the empty, frozen tundra of a back yard. She moved back to the sofa and as her bum hit the cushion she heard a voice again, this time coming distinctly from the front of the house. Her heart flew into a wild frenzy. Ron and Harry never came to the front door. What if something had happened to them? What if this was Parnell or Harding telling her of some god-awful accident? She grabbed her wand from the side table beside the sofa and ran to the left front window on the side of the front door.

Nothing could have prepared Hermione for the view that the window framed. At least seven men were standing outside her wards, pointing their wands and creating sparks and shimmering weak spots across the invisible dome of the wards. The dome that was the only thing standing between her home and these intruders. Light from a street lamp struck the face of one of the men and Hermione felt all the air in the room get sucked away from her. Fenrir Greyback narrowed his eyes, appearing to look directly at her. The wards were failing.

Hermione rushed to the fireplace in the living room picking up the urn that held the Floo powder. As she prepared to escape from the house to the safety of the Burrow, all the windows at the front of the house blew out, glass raining and flying into the house. A blast of cold air whipped through the structure and her hair with a ghostly moan. Hermione jumped away from some of the flying glass and felt the urn slip from her fingers, Floo powder spread out in a thin green layer over the rug in the room. Suddenly breathless, Hermione remembered Teddy upstairs in the back bedroom. The men outside would kill him in a heartbeat. She felt herself start to hyperventilate and cry as she turned and tried to run up the stairs. She felt a small piece of glass tear through the wool sock on her foot and picked the foot up off of wood floor and continued to run, gingerly putting weight on her left foot as she went.

When she turned the corner to speed up the stairs, she spotted a man she didn't immediately recognize running up the front path at a frightening rate. Instantly, Hermione made up her mind. She would walk outside before they got inside. The world seemed to stop and stand perfectly still. She thought about Harry and how Harry had calmly walked into the woods and faced his certain death with his head held high. The only sound Hermione could hear was her rough breathing that created puffs of vapor in the frigid air as she turned and ran, seemingly in slow motion, to the front door.

She threw the door open and faced whatever it was she was about to face. She remembered a piece of the prophecy in a blaze. "_She will pass through the Veil . . . " _She found herself facing Greyback, Scabior, a Snatcher she recognized, Fawe, and three men she didn't immediately know. She managed to fire off one wordless Stunner which was answered with a muffled "hmph" and a body dropping to the grass of the front yard.

"Aw, pretty Miss Mudblood, exactly who we wanted," Greyback growled out at her, disarming her wordlessly. Her wand flew through the air and she knew with a sinking feeling what power had just transferred to that monster. Keeping his wand trained on her as he caught hers, he walked toward her with a sickening smile. He called over his shoulder at the other men: "Someone get Gordan over there…."

Suddenly he was standing right in front of her; he grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her neck to snap back painfully. He laughed deep in his throat and pressed his lips against Hermione's neck. She shuddered away from him as if his mouth had branded her. _Oh, God just don't let him bite me_, she thought and then her mind jumped to Bill's scars in a flash. He ran his tongue from the base of her neck up to her ear.

"I'll have you tonight, pretty," he ground out with his mouth pressed against the side of her head, teeth grazed her ear. Hermione jerked her head viciously away from him trying to get him to let go of her hair. He pressed his hardness against her hip and Hermione felt her body tighten in fear, the dinner she'd eaten just hours before rolled ominously in her stomach.

"Looks like we've got what we came for! Someone let Orion know to meet us at the gate, yeah?" Greyback yelled out, pulling Hermione's hair down so that she had to stoop down to keep her hair from being yanked out.

"_Hermione Granger will cease to exist." _

She'd never put much stock into Divination or Trelawney but surely if prophecies were ever fulfilled then this was the end . . . Greyback dragged her with him in Disapparation away from the house and Teddy.

When they landed, Hermione was unceremoniously thrown to the ground where she caught herself on her hands and knees on a cold concrete floor. A snap and dizzying pain shot from her left wrist and she struggled not to cry out. Hermione gasped a deep breath in the face of the pain and brought her other hand involuntarily to her aching scalp, moving to sit back on her knees. Several other pops brought the rest of the men to the room, which Hermione noticed had oozing black and green liquid down the walls. Were they in a basement? She had one moment to realize and be glad that all the men had followed her here – Teddy was safe.

A strong hand came to slap Hermione so hard that her head snapped to the side and her body twisted to contort on the concrete. The hand protecting her scalp from more abuse moved to cradle her face where she felt that her lip had split. Blood was beginning to color her lip and fingers.

"Well, now, Mudblood. It looks like we'll get our time together after all. Scabior – I told you I'd be the one to finish her off didn't I?" Greyback paused before leaning over her, kicking her in the side. "LOOK AT ME!" He roared from above her. Terrified, Hermione rolled and bent her neck to look at him. "_CRUCIO!_"

Hermione's world burst open and the pain forced a scream out of her as her fingers tensed and her toes curled in pain. The pain in her wrist amplified and pulsed.

"Greyback, Orion's ready," a voice called from somewhere outside Hermione's pain. The werewolf lifted the curse off of her quickly and leaned down to grab her by her upper arm, dragging her over to one of the oozing walls. He slammed her back against it and leaned down to force his lips on Hermione's, stopping to lick at the gathering blood there. Hermione shrieked a muffled protest against his mouth, bringing both her hands to press against his chest in vain. Her wrist pounded at the force she struggled to exert against his torso.

"Good, keep that spirit up. I like it when they fight me for it," he grinned and snapped his teeth at her, palming one of her breasts through the shirt. She leaned away from him as much as she could and tried to flatten herself against the wall. "Hmmm, I always prefer this kind of interrogation to the methods of Bellatrix. Much more satisfaction in it for me this way. Can't say that you'll enjoy it any more though," he said, pushing his hand harder against her chest and bruising her lips under his again. She renewed the fight to push him back away from her, putting all her strength into moving the brute away from her.

"Greyback, we've got to move. He's got it at the gate, ready," Hermione heard the voice again. Sick as it was she was grateful to that person in that moment. Captor or not, that voice had done what her pushing had not – Greyback had taken a step back.

Greyback pointed his wand at some of the ooze streaking the walls and wordlessly charmed it, watching the streaks of it solidify and come off the wall to snake around Hermione's body to hold her there. The slimy feel of it felt like flat, slithering, wet ropes wrapping around her, trapping her in filth. "Can't have you figuring a way out of this one before I get to you, can I? _Stupefy_." Hermione's world went black.


	43. Discovery and a Plan

_. . . Chapter 43_

_. . . Discovery and a Plan . . . _

* * *

"Yeah, well, not my fault though is it?" Ron joked to Harry, pushing him off balance.

"Well my legs aren't thousands of feet long are they? You were bound to get there first," Harry pretended he was about to punch Ron's arm and Ron flinched instinctively. They'd stayed late that day at Harding's and Parnell's insistence and gone with a group on what they'd thought was a raid but was in reality was a training exercise with a group of six other Aurors-in-Training. They had all been Portkeyed out in the middle of a clearing with instructions to "Stun only" and been ambushed immediately.

Harry and Ron had both passed the exercise with flying colors - Ron Stunned three and Harry, two of their would be attackers. Harry was sore that Ron had out run him to his third Stunned victim as the man had turned and fled the fight. After the exercise was completed with two of the older Aurors-in-Training Stunned on the floor and the other four of them breathless with Harry and Ron, Parnell, Silvestri, Maxell, and Harding had filled them in that it had been an exercise.

The two Aurors-in-Training that had been stunned - evidently that prat Laney and bloke named Cooper - were to repeat their last month of training exercises. The rest of them were to be given more field responsibilities. Parnell, Silvestri, Maxwell, and Harding had all looked pleased at Harry and Ron before Disapparating to return to the Ministry to immediately file the reports. Harry and Ron had looked at each other and grinned. Now they were walking to a safe spot to Disapparate from and finally get home. It was so late that Ron knew he'd probably be crawling into bed beside a sleeping Hermione.

Ron grabbed Harry's upper arm and Disapparated the pair of them into the back yard. All the lights in the house were still on. Ron smiled, hoping Hermione was still up. Harry opened the back door and froze in the doorway so that Ron ran into his back.

"Wotcher, Harry," Ron stumbled through the door and heard the crunch of something under his boot. Ron looked down and saw a shard of glass splintered under his foot. "Harry - "

"Ron, the Floo - " Harry was running into the house before Ron could turn to see anything. When Ron turned he saw the Floo powder urn was smashed into a hundred light gray pieces of porcelain debris. Green powder and glass littered the rug. Instant panic filled his head and heart.

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouted running to Hermione's door. Empty. Running to her bathroom - empty. "HERMIONE, WHERE ARE YOU?" Ron ran into the kitchen. Empty. Ron ran to their clock. Hermione's tine on the clock pointed horrifically at_ Peril_. "HARRY!"

"Teddy's alright, blood in the entry way. Front door open," Harry said breathlessly, running down the stairs with a wailing Teddy in his arms.

Ron ran to the front foyer where the piano was covered in fragments of glass. Spots of blood dotted the floor at the bottom of the stairs and then led to the front door that stood wide open, letting the glacial late-December air charge through the house. Months of training kicked in and Ron ran out on the front step where blood stained the brick.

"_SANQUI QUIS,_" Ron shouted and saw the flash of gold he knew was the result of the spell gone correctly. "HERMIONE GRANGER!" The gold turned red. "FUCK!" Oh, God, Hermione. He nearly fell over.

"Ron - " Harry's stunned voice came from behind him. "RON - the Aurors. QUICKLY! They're probably back at the Ministry still!"

They looked at each other for a moment and Ron felt bile rise in his throat before Harry spoke again. "You'll go to the Ministry. I've got to do something with Teddy. Set off the emergency alarm. They'll come back here and then work the scene. I'll meet you back here." Harry's ability to think straight made Ron feel even more nauseous. "RON!" Harry yelled, walking toward him and shoving him. "GO!"

Ron shook his head to clear it before Apparating to the door they had been using lately for the Ministry. He took off running at the seemingly solid brick and was instantly running frantically through the vacant atrium of the Ministry. Did she have her necklace on? Would she Portkey back home? Something about the rising sense of terror and being there at night reminded him of fifth year. _Hermione_. _The Veil. _ Oh, gods above. _"She will pass through the Veil." _Ron ran through the emptied atrium with his boot steps echoing through the space. The lift was waiting open and Ron hurled himself into it, willing it to move faster until the grille started open and Ron shot out of the elevator at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"HARDING, PARNELL!" he shouted before he could see anyone. Lights were on.

"WHAT! WHAT'S HAPPENED?" Maxwell was coming around the corner, looking stricken.

"HERMIONE! They took her!" Ron tried not to yell right in the man's face.

"Who?" Maxwell was instantly serious. Harding came running around the row of cubicles holding his travelling cloak.

"I DON'T BLOODY KNOW! SOMEONE!"

"Alright, Ron. From home?" Harding asked, pulling on the cloak.

Ron felt himself nod and swallowed an urge to vomit.

"Alright. Set off the alarm, Maxwell. You'll stay and then Apparate to - Ron, what's near your house? - "

"There's a wizarding market in Ottery St. Catchpole. Short walk - " Ron said, quickly.

" - Ottery St. Catchpole's market with the rest that come. Ron, you'll take me to your house. Parnell," Parnell had just come around with Silvestri on his heels. "You and Silvestri, I guess come with us. We'll Floo there?"

Ron took a moment to realize he was asking him and not telling him. "Um, yes."

The emergency alarm went off. A wailing, repetitive siren filled the space like a scream that got truncated when it reached its highest pitch. Ron knew from his and Harry's studying that the emergency alarm was hooked into every Auror's and Senior Auror's wand once they made the department. Everyone would be here soon.

"And Harry?" Harding prompted, grabbing Ron firmly by the shoulder and practically dragging Ron to the emergency Floo in the Auror Department.

"Meeting us there. Teddy - "

"Fine," he said, releasing Ron in front of the Floo. Harding, Silvestri, and Parnell stepped into the hearth and Ron stepped in with them and threw a handful of powder in the fireplace and they sped off to their grate at home.

The speeding transportation made Ron close his eyes and he remembered Kingsley's face when he'd handed them the prophecy and the eerie way the prophecy had delivered the phrase, _"Hermione Granger will cease to exist."_

They were all stumbling out onto the dirtied rug at the house and Ron looked down to see two distinct spots in the mess of powder where someone had stepped and displaced the powder. The footprints were small. _Hermione_. Ron choked back a tortured sob. Another stolen glance at the clock: Peril.

"S'alright, Ron. You stay here and we'll sweep the yard," Harding said gently but firmly, moving quickly toward the front door.

Enough of Ron's training kicked in over and on top of his panic that he knew he'd do no good sobbing. He scraped a hand down his face and tried to rein in his emotions. "That's her blood outside and on the floor," he said with his voice cracking on the word 'her'.

Harding was already outside when Ron followed and went out the front door.

"What about this? Recognize this?" Silvestri asked, lighting her wand and thrusting something shiny into the light.

Hermione's necklace swung back and forth in the light with the ruby catching the light and reflecting a small circle of red light back up onto Silvestri's face. Ron didn't speak but gritted his teeth and nodded. In a flash he remembered Hermione's face when he'd given her her birthday present. Her skin was flushed and excited. Those big, beautiful brown eyes were alight. Her lips were parted in a thrilled grin. Instead of feeling relieved at mentally seeing her whole and happy, Ron's stomach dropped. She couldn't come back without that necklace unless she still had her wand. What if he never saw that expression again? What if -

"Hers?" Silvestri asked. He nodded again and felt a hot tear edge out along his cheek. She was gone. Hermione wasn't here. Someone had Hermione. Harding came back to where Ron and Silvestri were standing. He looked green and Ron knew instantly, knew beyond any shadow of a doubt what Harding was about to say.

"No. No. _No . _NO! IT'S NOT HIM, HARDING. IT'S NOT. IT CAN'T BE!" Ron's voice grew larger as he shrank down to his knees on the brick beside one of the small drops of blood.

"Greyback's signature picked up, Ron," Harding's voice was deadly quiet and calm.

A pop came from somewhere around them and Harry spoke quickly, "What do we know?"

"No," Ron repeated weakly to Harding and stared down at the grass beside Harry's foot. If it was Greyback then Hermione was already being raped or was d - he couldn't even think the word. The prophecy. . . his stomach emptied on the ground.

"Greyback," Harding said grimly while Ron got sick on the ground. A tender hand was rubbing his back as he threw up. "And six other signatures. Don't have them identified yet." Ron retched again and the hand moved to his neck. It was cool and soft and made him think of Hermione when she'd washed his skin after Bremmer had been killed all those many months ago.

"_Tergeo_," Silvestri muttered and Ron watched the sick disappear. She removed her hand from his neck and helped him stand with a supportive hand under his elbow. Ron wiped his mouth off with his sleeve.

"Ron," Harding was looking down at the ground. "Harry, we - we have no way to trace - "

"NO!" From sick to angry in an instant. "WE ARE NOT LETTING THIS HAPPEN!" He looked from Harding to Harry and back again. "YOU KNOW WHAT HE'LL DO TO HER! YOU KNOW WHAT HE - WE CAN'T LEAVE HER WITH HIM!"

"Without something to track her with - " Harding started, meeting Ron's eye finally.

"RON!" Ron looked at Harry who looked like he had so many times before throughout the years. Harry had an idea. "Ron - the Deluminator! You found us before! Find her!"

A series of footsteps and voices came barreling toward them from up the road. Their wards were down so the group of Aurors led by Maxwell ran directly up to them. Ron heard them start casting spells to determine magical signatures as he turned and run up through the front door. Glass crunched under his large feet until he came to the stairs, bounding up them two at a time. In his room, he threw the drawer open and pulled out the Deluminator and clicked it. A light flew out and the street lamp outside his window was illuminated. He clicked it again. The street lamp was extinguished.

Harry's footsteps signaled his arrival into Ron's room.

"Ron?" Harry looked breathless but hopeful when Ron turned to him.

"S'not working. WHY ISN'T IT WORKING!" Ron shouted.

"Last time it - oh, Ron. . . last time she said your name. . . She's got to call you to her," Harry collapsed against the doorframe and let himself slide down to sit on the floor. Harry's defeated stature broke something in him.

Ron turned the Deluminator over and over in his hand and had to consciously keep from throwing it. He clicked it. The street lamp came on. He clicked it. The street lamp turned off. Ron started sobbing and couldn't stop before losing it this time. Painful, heaving sobs. In an instant Harry was up and they were clinging to each other's robes.

"What are we going to do?" Ron asked between gasping sobs. "What do we do?"

Harry backed away from him and wiped his face. He sniffed horribly. "Last time, she called your name and you clicked it and you said you knew it was kind of like a Portkey?" Ron didn't respond to Harry through his wrenching sobs but Harry took that as a confirmation and continued. "So what if we go back to the Auror Department and have someone make an actual Portkey and when she calls your name we'll use that light to make a Portkey instead of you just Disapparating into the unknown. Something big so we can all go at once?"

Ron met his eyes and managed to take a deep enough breath to respond. "You're assuming she can." He wiped his face with the back of his hand but more tears fell to take their place.

"She can what?" Harry asked.

"You're assuming that she can still call my name," he explained quietly, fresh tears running down his pale face. "She doesn't have her necklace, Harry - "

"No. No, Ron. We're not thinking like that. We'll go downstairs, go to the Ministry, and wait for the light to come up there. Someone is always on call at the emergency Portkey desk. They'll help us. We are NOT thinking like that, Ron," Harry grabbed Ron by the front of his robes and dragged him downstairs. Ron wiped his face off as much as possible and got his crying under control before facing the swarm of Aurors that were milling around the yard.

"Guys," Parnell greeted grimly, glancing anywhere but their faces.

"Tell us," Harry commanded, picking up on Parnell's evasive looks.

"Scabior's signature was picked up, Bertie Gordan's, Rabastan Lestrange's, Uther Fawe, Palaron Yith, Ryth Ware, and of course you know - " Every name shot through Ron like a physical pain. Murderers. Rapists. Torturers. All with Hermione.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Listen we've got a tool to locate Hermione if she says Ron's name."

Parnell looked like he was about to interrupt but Harry held up a hand to stop him.

"The Deluminator, from the memories? Remember?" Parnell nodded at Harry. "Right, well we'll go back to the Ministry and use it to make a Portkey so the moment she says his name we can all go directly there."

Parnell glanced up and over at Harding. She was gone. Taken. Taken by all those horrible men.

"Alright. S'the only plan we've got. Let's go," Harding said, grabbing Ron's upper arm and leading him back to the fireplace. Ron almost said he'd rather Apparate but realized that he'd probably splinch himself trying.

Harding threw a handful of Floo Powder from the rug into the hearth and they went whirring off back to the Auror Department. Harry and Parnell appeared behind them almost immediately.

"Portkey," Harding commanded and the four of them headed for the lifts as the sounds of more Aurors returning to the Department came from behind them. The grille clanged shut. _"It will come to pass when the one of three carries new life." _ Ron lurched forward before the lift did and grabbed the grille to stay upright. One of three. Hermione, Ron, Harry. She was pregnant. Hermione had been taken. The love of his life was . . . . and she was pregnant. His child -

The grille yanked open and Ron untangled his fingers from it before they were cut by the collapsing metal diamonds. Harding was running out of the lift before Ron could move. Ron was pushed forward by someone too gentle to be Parnell. Harry.

"BLEETH!" Harding yelled as Harry pushed Ron into a run behind Harding.

A head of downy white hair popped up above the counter as they neared it.

"Portkey?" Bleeth was instantly composed in Harding's face.

"Yes," Harding answered, catching his breath.

"Where?" Bleeth was standing from his chair and moving to the door behind his desk.

"We don't know."

Bleeth stopped and turned slowly to face them. "Excuse me?"

"We've got a - a thing that kind of creates its own Portkey. We need something large, something that pretty much all the Aurors can use together and we need you to come upstairs and sit with us until our thing can make it," Harding explained in a rush.

Bleeth narrowed his eyes. "It is its own Portkey, your 'thing'?"

"NO! Will you just, will you just come with us? You know how the light surrounds the Portkey?" Harry spoke up from beside Ron. Bleeth nodded, eyes widening slightly at the person he was now speaking to. "This 'thing' we have makes the light. We need you to capture the light in a Portkey when it appears." Ron turned the Deluminator over in his pocket. A baby, Hermione . . . dying . . . his baby. . .

Bleeth had gone in the door behind his desk wordlessly and reemerged with a spool of ribbon. "This should work. I don't know about this, Harding, but. . . well we'll try. I'll do the paper work on it later if it works instead of now, alright?" Bleeth said.

"Yes, yes, fine," Harding led the group briskly back to the elevators.

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement," announced the lift, clattering open.

Voices were loud and shouting from the moment they got off the elevators. The alarm had been turned off.

"For _one _girl? This is a suicide mission! Do you not hear what I'm telling you? Taking on all those men at once - "

"We outnumber them by thirty people! More of us may come even, tonight - "

"THIRTY? Thirty doesn't mean anything! Lestrange ring a bell for you, Maxwell? I'm telling you: this girl is dead. We're better to wait until - "

Ron clenched his fists and his jaw. _Girl is dead . . . girl is dead . . ._Ringing filled his ears.

"We are going. That is final," Kingsley's rich voice cut off all the noise in the department. Ron was instantly glad to know Kingsley would be with them that night. "She did more for the order of our world than most of us in this room. These are Death Eaters we've been trying to apprehend for months and now we have them all together to attack. And if anyone here chooses NOT to go they will be relieved of all Ministry duties on the spot. Do I make myself clear?"

Ron, Harry, Harding, Bleeth and Parnell rounded the corner and saw a few Aurors facing a large group of Aurors with Kingsley standing in the middle. The group of three Aurors was nodding. Maxwell nodded at the group of them and the whole room turned to face them. Ron was suddenly acutely aware that Kingsley had delivered the prophecy to them when Kingsley turned toward them with sorrow-filled eyes. A Baby, Hermione. _Hermione_.

"Ron, Harry," he greeted and reached to shake their hands before thinking better of it and pulling first Harry then himself into a couple of strong hugs. "We'll find her," he whispered to Ron as he took a step back. Ron forced himself to nod back.

"Alright, listen up!" Harding moved to the spot in the floor that Kingsley had just left. "Hermione Granger had been taken tonight from her home, for those that are just coming here tonight. The abductors are: Fenrir Greyback, Rabastan Lestrange, Theo Scabior, Bertie Gordan, Uther Fawe, Palaron Yith, Ryth Ware. We," Harding indicated Harry and Ron, "have a tool that allows us to track Miss Granger. We've got to wait and see if she calls to it. If we hear her voice calling through the device we have then we will be able to create a Portkey," Harding indicated Bleeth who raised the spool of red ribbon up and waved it around a bit in the air. "We will create the Portkey instantly and go instantly so don't go far from this area. Bleeth, go ahead and unroll it and get it ready," Harding added as an afterthought.

Ron felt the eyes of the room on himself and Harry. Harding nodded once to Ron, who pulled the Deluminator out of his pocket and held it in his palm. A few Aurors took a step closer to see the Deluminator.

"And just _what _do _we_ do in the mean time?" Ron recognized the voice as the man who was trying to talk them out of going after Hermione. He was going to hate him forever.

"Now," Harding said at his normal volume, "we wait."

Harding clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder as he walked by. Ron looked down at the Deluminator in his hand.


	44. A Plot Revealed and A Cry

. . . Chapter 44

. . . A Plot Revealed and A Cry . . .

* * *

Hermione woke with the slimy tendrils still holding her upright against the wall. A sickly kind of green light came from an old green-glass light fixture in the middle of the room. Her wrist throbbed where one of the stemming strands held it tight against concrete. The Stunning Spell must've worn off. She looked around the room - no windows. She wondered how long she'd been knocked out for. She tried to wiggle out of the solidified ooze holding her in place and felt it tighten its grip on her. The concrete behind her felt awful: cold, hard, wet. She shifted her feet to see if she could get a foot loose and felt the sting in her foot from the glass she'd stepped on. She bit her lip and willed herself not to cry. She concentrated on trying to formulate a plan. Her necklace! She glanced down and saw only skin above her black shirt. Her escape route. Her only chance. . .

Greyback was going to come back eventual and let her off this wall, maybe she'd be able to kick him or something and run for the stairs. . . Harry's words after they'd jumped off the dragon's back last year popped into her head, _"Hermione, when have any of our plans actually worked?"_ Hermione stood still, waiting for whatever was about to happen. Almost instantly, pops of Apparation and footsteps from the floor above sounded. Hermione looked up at the underside of the floorboards only to have dirt shake out from their movements above. She snapped her eyes shut to keep the dirt out and felt some of it hit her face. The door at the top of the stairs opened and a series of heavy footfalls rang out in the space.

"Hey, Mudblood, look what we found," Greyback said, coming back into the room and swaggering down the remaining stairs. He was twirling the Elder Wand in front of himself. "Now comes the fun part. You're going to tell us what we need to know and then you'll get your turn with me." He snarled at her, his filthy teeth made her cringe back in horror.

Hermione saw the group of men spread out under the wan green light. "YOU! You're a Death Eater!" The man she recognized as the Defense of Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts grinned at her. Orion Renior, her mind supplied in spite of the fear.

"Surprised?" he stepped closer to her. She struggled uselessly against the oozing bindings holding her in place. "Well see, we heard Potter's noble speech when he murdered our Lord," the last word slipped out as if caressed. "Knew he was the master of the wand and then damn if the little moron didn't let slip to the _Daily Prophet_ that he had returned the wand where it belonged: that old fool's grave."

Hermione had known all that but hoped maybe they didn't realize she'd become the master then. Maybe they didn't know what they had after all. Then she remembered the fiasco in August. They knew. They had to know. She kept her mouth shut, pressing her lips tightly together.

"So what do you think, lovely? Look nice on 'im, don't it?" Scabior leaned on the wall opposite her and nodded toward Greyback.

"This was yours, then?" Greyback asked her. Hermione didn't respond. "You were the master of this, then?" he asked, louder this time. Hermione glared at him. The leaks from the walls of the room instantly reverted to mush and she stumbled forward off of the face of the wall. The liquidity of it seeped into the fabric of her shirt and jeans, creating bands of dampness. Greyback stepped closer to her. "If you don't start talking with me, tonight will last a lot longer than you want it to." He lifted the Elder Wand and used it to brush away a few of her curls from her neck and she took a shaky step back. "Or, do you want to enjoy our time together?"

Laughter from the other men in the room reverberated in her chest. Their supportive laughter spurred Greyback onward and he advanced on her. Her heart was pounding. She backed back up against the wall where she'd been bound just moments before. "Hmm, let's see what we can make of you then, shall we?"

Greyback drew his arm back and brought it down hard across her face. Reflexively, tears sprung to Hermione's eyes and she brought her uninjured arm up to grab her face. Greyback grabbed the arm she'd brought up and used it to jerk her around and throw her on the hard floor again where she fell hard.

"Now, aren't you the master of this? Isn't that what you meant when we had our little talk before?" he asked her and she clenched her jaw. "Aw, that's no fun. Hey, Mudblood, I believe I can recall at least one way to get you to make noise for us. Bellatrix at least got you talking. . . Want to know what it is?" Hermione knew before he cast it.

"_Crucio_!" he yelled and Hermione's jaw unclenched and she heard herself scream as she looked up at the smiling face of Orion Renior. The curse lifted and Hermione gasped, forcing air back into her lungs. The scream had torn her lip back open from where it had started to scab over while she'd been against the wall. She realized quickly that the only way to live through this was to delay until she could think of something - _anything_ - else.

"So," she spoke up and was glad she sounded more confident than she felt. "You got the job at Hogwarts to get closer to the wand?" Hermione pushed herself up on one arm in a seated position to look at Orion.

"Too easy, too. Made a lot of noise about my family being killed by Death Eaters. Funny - no one checked that story out. Told McGonagall that nothing would make me happier than helping the 'children of Hogwarts start over'," he said, moving to squat down beside her. His proximity made her even more uneasy. "And then you go and let slip your little secret." He reached a hand up and ran a finger lightly along the low scoop neck edge of her shirt. She instantly jerked away from his touch across the top of the swell of her breasts.

"Yes, how'd that happen, lovely?" Scabior asked her from his spot on the wall.

"How d'you think?" she challenged with as much haughtiness as she could muster from the floor. She felt like her bluffing ability was about to run out. Her heart was hammering painfully against her ribs.

Greyback turned to her and laughed cruelly. "Oh, you _are_ fun, Mudblood." He walked around her in a circle and she whipped her head around to keep her eyes on him. "Let me tell you my theory so that we can skip to the good part." Hermione's heart sank. Scabior snickered from his spot against the wall.

"My theory, sweetheart, is that you got smart and realized those of us," he paused and indicated the group of men in the room, "who were still around after the battle would have heard about that idiot Potter's victory speech. You know, the one about the traitor Snape and the wand?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm and made her feel even smaller than she already felt, sitting on the floor and getting circled by Greyback. "Yeah, after he'd said that he was the master of the Elder Wand, a few of us got talking. Reckoned that we could have the wand for ourselves, didn't we?" Hermione felt herself start to churn up her dinner and forced herself not to throw up. "We found out you three was living in Ottery St. Catchpole and we took turns watching 'round the place. Saw that fool Erasmus talking to you, Mudblood, a couple nights. Thought maybe if you'd come out to talk to him that we could use that bit of information to take you and get Potter," Greyback stopped walking right in front of her and leered down at her, squatting until he was just in front of her. "Only then, I killed that Auror, love. Oh, not right away, had these men hanging on to him til I could get the job done. I walked around where I'd seen him talk to you before and like bloody clockwork. There you were, sexy," he grinned at her and Hermione recoiled and scrambled back over the concrete floor in horror. The rest of the men in the room laughed and she felt a knee against her back where one of them had moved to stand closer to her. Her stomach roiled and she heaved forward, barely keeping herself from getting sick.

"Oh, if you get sick from talking then you're really going to hate what's next, Mudblood," one of the men spoke. One leg, one artificial limb. Uther Fawe. Oh God. They all laughed at her again.

"As I was saying," Greyback interrupted irritably, "You come outside and spill your secret. You let slip to your little friend Erasmus that Potter wasn't the master of the wand no longer. You practically served yourself up as bait right there." He leaned down and grabbed her hair to force her to meet his eyes. "You were the master of the wand, right? It feels powerful in my hand - like nothing I've ever felt before. . ."

The whole room was silent except for Hermione's ragged breathing in the face of this murderer.

"You know boys? I think we could have a bit of fun with the wand before I get a taste of this lovely treat. _Crucio!"_

Hermione felt her eyes snap shut of their own accord as her whole body tensed. She couldn't support her body in the seated position any longer and fell forward onto the concrete. Feeling her wrist throb again, Hermione screamed out even louder in pain. The curse lifted and Hermione couldn't force herself to move off the floor immediately.

"You know? Bellatrix mighta been onto something here. This wand, Mudblood? This wand is made for this kind of thing," Greyback said, looking at the wand in his hand with a look of wonder. "_Amoveo,_" he growled. Hermione felt her shirt slither up her back and stomach, cold concrete pressed directly against her stomach. Her socks slid off and her jeans snapped unbuttoned. Horrified, she flailed into action, trying to stop her shirt and jeans from slithering off of her by some invisible force. The shirt reached her shoulders and an unseen force pushed both her arms up as her black shirt was flung away. Hermione covered her chest with both hands in shame, helping to hide her body along with the black bra and knickers that were thankfully still in place. She snapped her legs as tightly together as they would go. The men in the room laughed and jeered as Hermione flushed in dreadful terror. Red patches sprung up bright on both her cheeks.

"Black, eh, Mudblood? Expecting action tonight, then?" Orion taunted.

"Lovely, you're blushing! Greyback, looks like we caught us one what doesn't like to show herself off," Scabior laughed and leered at her. She watched him blatantly palm himself through his trousers.

"What do you think now, Mudblood? Want to talk, yet?" a singsong Greyback was speaking to, taunting her. She felt herself start to cry and willed herself not to show them how upset she was. She knew if she didn't talk she risked losing what little clothing she had on.

"About what?" She tried to snap out confidently but it came out pathetic and small.

"WERE YOU THE MASTER OF THE WAND?" Greyback roared at her.

She felt too shocked by his temper to come up with a good lie so she squeaked out, "n-no."

"LIAR! Who else would it be then? Well we'll just systematically take out everyone that it could be. Was it that red headed, blood traitor boyfriend of yours then?"

"No," she said lowly, making a quick decision. Maybe if they knew it was her and knew for sure that he was the new master of the wand she'd be able to tell them they didn't have to kill her to have ownership of it and she'd have time to work out a way out. . . Even as she thought it, she couldn't foresee any possible way out. "I was."

Greyback grinned at her. "So the blood traitor is your trick then?" He twirled the wand in his hand. "Well, he sure as hell shouldn't have let you take the Elder Wand from Potter. . ." his voice got low as he looked at the wand in his hand. "Tell me, Mudblood. Do you know how the power of the wand was thought to pass down before Potter's little speech?"

She gritted her teeth. She wished she'd gotten to tell Ron everything she wanted with him: children together, a long future together, sitting together when they were both old and gray. She wished she could be braver, stronger like Harry who always seemed to get out of impossible situations like this. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Her life didn't flash before her eyes, Ron's did. Moments. Crying when Bill left for Hogwarts, the train first year, his face when she was unpetrified second year. How angry he was about Scabbers in third year. How they'd cheered together for Harry before he went into the maze in fourth year. Ron's scars from the brains in fifth year and how they looked on his strong arms now. Seeing Ron kiss Lavender in sixth year. Kissing Ron in the Chamber of Secrets that first time and then again passionately minutes later. Making love for the first time -

"You do, don't you_," _Greyback ground out above her and Hermione closed her eyes.

"Yes," she whispered.

"What do you think?" he said and she opened her eyes to look at him but he was looking back at the other men in the room. She couldn't believe this was it, she'd never felt more hopeless. She'd had felt less hopeless at Malfoy Manor because at least she'd been a been able to hear Ron's voice as he called to her from the basement. She hadn't even felt this hopeless when Ron had left them back in the tent alone. . . voice. . . Ron leaving . . . The Deluminator! Oh, God if Ron had it -

"RON!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs.

"What're you on about, Mudblood?" Greyback was advancing on her and she saw him raise his wand to her and she kicked out wildly at his feet, feeling one foot make contact.

"RON!" She sucked in a breath and got ready to scream again, "RO - "

"_DIFFINDO_!" Greyback shouted, he'd aimed at her neck and missed, hitting her shoulder as she lurched and flailed away from him on the floor.

" - AHHHH!" she screamed and flipped onto her stomach to try to crawl away. Anything to get away. . . He grabbed her hair and she suddenly remembered how Ron said they'd found most of the girls: face down with claw and bite marks over their backs. She suddenly realized: those girls were trying to crawl away from him as well. "NO, PLEASE - PLEASE!" She kicked backwards and felt her foot connect with something and was turned over by Greyback as he roughly grabbed her by the leg, dragging her nearly bare back over rough concrete.

She vaguely heard someone in the room ask, "What's she doing?"

"RON!" Hermione shouted, realizing they weren't going to allow her to keep screaming when they were questioning her actions like that.

"_CRUCIO!"_ Greyback screamed at her.

"RON! PLEASE!" she managed to get out before she screamed incoherently with the pain of it blocking out all other thoughts.

Hermione screamed, hoping it was enough, hoping he'd heard her as Greyback advanced on her. The curse lifted off of her finally. She gasped for air and felt her lungs stinging. He lowered his wand on her again and she used every ounce of energy she had left to push herself away from him across the floor as he sent another cutting hex at her. The hex hit her side and she gasped and brought a hand to press against it instantly. She felt a rushing wetness spreading across her stomach and around and over her back. Greyback knelt down beside her and hit her hand away, the stinging, sharp pain of it shot black across Hermione's vision.

She felt him press a filthy hand against her bleeding side and watched in horror as he brought the hand back up, licking her blood off of his fingers. Sheer terror. "RON! NOOO! NO! OH, GOD, RON!" Her esophagus burned from her screams. One of Greyback's hands found its way to her throat, his long yellowed nails pressed in against her soft skin and Hermione realized this was the end.

". . . ron . . ." she choked out before losing consciousness.


	45. A Voice and Blood

**AN: I felt bad giving y'all so many cliffhangers in a row. Alas, two posts in one day. I like to think that after this little gift that those of you reading might want to leave a little review? Maybe? **

_. . . Chapter 45 _

_. . . A Voice and Blood . . . _

* * *

Ron hadn't moved in the hour since Harding had spoken about their plan. Midnight had come and gone. He had seriously considered sending Harry home for the clock to make sure her tine was still there but couldn't voice that fear out loud. All the Aurors were tense, gathered in pockets of frenzied nerves, waiting.

_"RON!"_ screamed the Deluminator with Hermione's voice. For one blessed second Ron was glad and so grateful for that scream. Gratefulness quickly turned to sickening horror and he froze. _"RON! RO - AHHHH!"_ Malfoy Manor's basement jumped to Ron's mind. Those screams. . .

"BLEETH! GET OVER HERE!" Ron was aware of Harding shouting but all he could look at was the screaming Deluminator in his hand.

"_NO, PLEASE - PLEASE! RON! PLEASE!"_ Another horrible scream blew out from the Deluminator.

"RON, CLICK IT!" Harry shouted over the noise of the entire Auror Department springing to life. Ron clicked the shrieking Deluminator and Hermione's voice moved into a pulsing ball of light. Bleeth started muttering a series of spells over the ribbon he'd laid out on the floor.

_"RON! NOOO!"_ the ball of light - Hermione - was screaming and every eye in the room turned toward it. No one was moving fast enough . . . _"NO! OH, GOD, RON!"_

"BLEETH!" Harding yelled, but didn't take his eyes off of the ball of light.

"GO, GO!" Bleeth said, every person in the room moved to bend down and grab the ribbon. Bleeth pointed his wand at the light and started moving it toward the ribbon.

_"ron. . ." _

Bleeth stopped moving and all eyes were on the ball of light that choked out the tiny word floated inches above the ribbon.

"BLEETH!" someone yelled before they were all spinning through the air around the ribbon turned Portkey.

The group of thirty something Aurors landed just outside a dilapidated old house. All at once all thirty of them were running toward the house. Ron's long legs put him in front of most of the others and he burst through the front door to be met with . . . nothing. Laughter from another room. He ran forward and sensed other Aurors turning and clearing the rest of the rooms on this floor. Laughter again.

Another Auror got in front of him and opened up a door beside what was formerly some kitchen. A set of stairs led down from the door, sickly green light and laughter from below. The Auror and Ron started down the stairs quietly but quickly

"Yeah, looks good for a Mudblood," a man's voice scratched.

"Well, did."

The Auror in front of Ron - Keyling - wordlessly sent a spell down and a muffled moan drifted up at Ron. Aurors from behind him shouted out spells Ron didn't know, taking down Scabior and Lestrange with noise and flashes of light. Near the bottom of the stairs Ron saw a broken form, bleeding, down to her black cotton set of her knickers and bra, honey brown curls streaked with red. A grinning, wolfish face turned toward him, blood on his face and hands.

"_VISCUS DECUMBO_!" Ron heard his voice as if someone else had sent the Entrail Expelling Curse at Greyback. Greyback fell, twitching in death, before he could raise his wand.

"_FLAGRANTE_!" Ron shouted at the body before turning to one of the other men. _His Hermione. His baby. _"_CONFRINGO_!" The man blasted backwards, hitting the wall with a crunch. A set of strong arms wrapped around his waist in the noise and confusion of the room. Ron ignored them. "_SECTUMSEMPRA_!" Another one fell.

"RON!" The set of arms squeezed him and nearly picked him up. "Ron, Hermione - " It was Harry, face paler than could be possible. Ron moved with Harry holding onto him to the crumpled form of Hermione. Blood covered the floor and Ron fell to his knees beside her, her side was cut open and bleeding. Her shoulder had a deep gash slitting it open. Places where hands had touched her blood left streaky finger marks across her stomach, breasts, and legs.

"_Hermione, oh. Hermione,_" Ron crawled forward and pushed her curls to the side, her face was deathly pale. He gathered her head and shoulders in his arms. "Hermione? Please?" He shook her a tiny bit. Her head lolled to the side. He felt Harry drop beside him. Harry had grabbed one of Hermione's bloody hands and brought it to his face. "Hermione? HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" Ron felt his voice get pulled from his chest. The love of his life. The best person he knew. The only -

"RON! She moved!" Harry shouted and Ron heard a gasp from behind them.

"What?" he whimpered weakly.

"Her hand! She's alive!" Harry yelled. "SOMEBODY HELP US!"

An Auror came from nowhere and put two fingers to her neck. "SHE'S ALIVE!" he shouted to the room. "St. Mungo's, let's go. Hold her." The Auror had stooped to put both arms around Ron before Ron replied. Ron held tight to Hermione until they came spinning to a stop, kneeling outside a glass window in an expanse of brick wall. The Auror jumped up in an instant, pressing his wand to a pane in the glass.

"Hermione? Love?" Ron looked down at her still body. Her side and shoulder were still bleeding. Hermione was limp in his arms. "_Baby?_" he whispered to her.

"Come on, Weasley." The Auror helped him pick up Hermione and Ron ran behind him into St. Mungo's lobby.

"HELP US! SOMEBODY!" Ron shouted. The Welcome Witch stood and gasped when they came in and shouted with her wand at her neck.

"EMERGENCY! ONE!" Her voice carried through the halls and echoed in the hospital. She lowered her wand as the Auror beside Ron started to speak.

"Werewolf, we think but maybe just gashes. Bleeding heavily. Still breathing," the Auror quickly summarized for the witch. Hermione drew a gasping breath and he looked down at her, her bleeding lip had blood beading at her mouth. More blood was smeared around her lips -

"HURRY!" Ron shouted at the witch.

Five Healers came running around the corner, levitating a gurney in front of them as they ran. "Get her on this!" "Operating Room, immediately. "We'll let you know." A few of them all spoke at once as they took Hermione from him. They ran off down the corridor they had just come from. The instant she was out of his arms, Ron clutched at the robes of the Auror with him, trying not to collapse on the floor.

"S'alright, Weasley. . . Let's get you over to the waiting," the Auror dragged Ron over to an area full of chairs and sofas and tables and copies of Potions Weekly and Witch Weekly spread out haphazardly everywhere. "Owl your family?" he asked. Ron looked up at him - Russell - and nodded.

Ron disintegrated sitting in a chair in the waiting room. Please live. Hermione. Baby. Please live. Please live. He rocked himself back and forth and let himself sob unchecked, folded over on himself with his chest on his knees in the lobby of St. Mungo's. Oh, God those marks where someone had run their hands over her, that smear around her mouth . . . And those gashes . . . Time lost all meaning and in what could have been a minute or an hour Ron felt someone sit beside him and heard Harry's voice.

"Shhhh," he was crying as well, "she'll make it, Ron. She has to. She'll be fine." Harry's words intermingled with sobs didn't instill much hope. Harry put a hand on Ron's back and they waited together for what seemed like forever.

"Ron? Oh, my darling boys. Harry, Ron - you're both alright?" Ron lifted his head only slightly from his knees and looked up at his mum's worried brown eyes and felt a fresh wave of tears over take him. He couldn't work up the energy to worry about being embarrassed by crying. A few of the Aurors from earlier were with them, Harding and Kingsley among the small group. Mum, Dad, Bill, Fleur, Ginny, and George all were standing right in front of them.

Ron shook his head no in response to her question. How could they be alright when his wife and child were hurting. Ron realized belatedly which word his brain had supplied for Hermione and felt like someone was choking him.

"Do we know anything yet?" Arthur Weasley asked someone.

"No," Harry wiped his face, clearing his throat and stood up. The spot where his hand had been on Ron's back was suddenly and uncomfortably cold. Ron saw Harry's feet shuffle over to Ginny's feet. There was blood on Harry's shoes. Hermione's blood . . .

Mum sat down where Harry had been and he twisted to her and embraced her, wiping tears hastily off of his face so they wouldn't soak her hair or shoulder. He let her rock him like a kid as they sat together. He managed to get his crying under control and was breathing closer to normal soon enough. Something about mum always calmed him down: when he stubbed a toe, when the love of his life was probably fighting for her very life. Ron let out a semi-hysterical laugh and mum just said, "S'alright. S'_al_right," in a broken singsongy kind of way.

"How long has she been back?" Kingsley's voice asked. Ron hadn't realized he'd come over to stand next to them.

"Welcome Witch said an hour, give or take a few minutes," Bill whispered. Ron leaned up and away from his mum. Mum gave him a weathered, fortifying smile.

Footsteps from somewhere down the corridor rang out, reaching everyone in the waiting area. A Healer was walking down the long hall toward them. Ron jumped up out of the chair.

"Ron!" Ginny gasped, bringing one hand to cover her mouth. He noticed she was looking him up and down. Ron looked down at his robes: wet and sticky with dark red blood all down his front. _Oh, God._ Before he could ask someone to get it off him, Bill had moved toward him and magicked the buttons on his robe undone. Bill and mum helped him shrug quickly out of his ruined robes. Bill folded the robes over his arm and _tergeo-_ed the small patch of blood that had soaked through the robe onto his light blue v-neck t-shirt and the blood on the knees and shins of both legs of his jeans. The whole undressing and cleaning had taken less than ten seconds - like clockwork almost.

"Here for the girl? Um - Hermione Granger?" the Healer asked as he got closer, checking her chart as he walked.

"Yes, all ov us. 'Ow ees she?" Fleur asked before anyone else could.

"Well, we'll know more when she wakes but she'll recover," he explained.

Ron grabbed Bill's arm. 'She'll recover' rang beautifully in his head. The whole room seemed to let out a breath.

"She's awake?" Ron asked and was surprised at how hoarse he sounded.

"No, probably not for a while. We've given her a few potions so it might be as long as a day - as little as a couple hours depending on her tolerance. She's being moved now to a private room on the Fourth Floor," the Healer said.

"The Fourth Floor? But that's Spell Damage - " Ron turned to look at his dad as the eldest Weasley spoke.

The Healer smiled at them, "Oh! Yes, good news. She wasn't bit at all. She's - well, she was bleeding out but it was from spells that caused cuts and then also from being," the Healer had gradually lost his smile as he'd spoken, "beaten." Ron felt his face fall and tightened his fingers around Bill's arm. "But, she'll make a full recovery. She's banged up but you got there in time. . . anyway once she's in her room we will allow family in so - " the Healer looked around the room and let the question hang in the air.

"_We_ are her family," mum said and gestured to the group of Weasleys and Harry who were clustered together.

"Very well, you can go up to the Fourth Floor. I'm Healer Chatelain, I'll be up to check on her frequently while she's here," he started to turn to go back down the corridor and said, "elevator is down here on the right." He gestured and Ron saw his chance.

"Healer?" Ron said, breaking away from Bill. The Healer turned to him expectantly. "Can I speak with you before - " he jogged away from his family.

"Of course," the Healer looked up at him. "What's your relation to - "

"Um, she's my. . . " he suddenly remembered when Hermione had said that girlfriend wasn't a big enough word. "She's mine."

"Oh, alright. Well?" the Healer frowned but waited for him to speak.

"Well," Ron realized he was going to have to ask it quickly to get to ask it at all. He glanced at his family as they waited on the lift to clatter down to the first floor. He lowered his voice, "Is - is, well, is she pregnant?"

The Healer jolted back surprised and tried to cover it up by crossing his arms over his chest and shuffling his feet. "No, no she's not. She has never been and is not currently pregnant."

"Oh," Ron was more disappointed by that than he thought he'd be. He'd examine that particular emotion later. "Well, I had another - "

He heard the lift chime. "Ron?" mum called but he didn't turn to look at her.

" - question," Ron said and Chatelain nodded at him to go on. "Was she," Ron cleared his throat almost afraid to know the answer. Afraid to know if that monster had taken something so precious from her. "Was she -"

"No," the Healer said quickly as he understood Ron's meaning, "No, she wasn't raped." Ron felt slightly better but then remembered how much blood there had been and felt his relief evaporate.

"Ron?" Ginny this time.

"Ok," Ron started toward his family before turning quickly back to Chatelain. "Hey, thank you," Ron extended his arm to shake the hand of the man who'd probably just saved Hermione's life.

"Room 4506," Chatelain said, giving Ron a close-lipped smile. Ron turned away from him then and walked to his family who had the lift waiting and open.

Ron walked over to them quickly and the elevator closed after Ginny had removed her hand from blocking the grille. Something like gravity drew the group from the elevator and down the series of hall and corridors to stand outside door 4506. A chart was tucked into a metal container on the door: _Hermione Granger. _A nurse walked by and smiled up at the group slightly. Ron brought hand to the handle on the door.

"It's a big room, you can all go in if you want," the nurse whispered as she walked by.

Ron pushed the door open and was struck immediately by how bright the room was. Must've become morning while they'd waited . . . A large window was directly across from the door. Ron saw the white painted iron work of the foot of a bed and turned the left to see her. Tears sprang back into his eyes. She looked particularly small on the hospital bed. Bruises that hadn't been visible earlier were darkening with time across her perfect skin. Ron walked closer to her and heard people come into the room behind him. A cut on her lip was healing, stitching skin together even as he watched. Finally, Ron stood right beside her shoulder. Her bruised arms were above the thin blanket and crossed over her stomach. Her shoulders were bare and a bandage covered her right shoulder and disappeared under the beige blanket. One of her wrists was wrapped in a thick white bandage. A tear clung to his skin and tucked under his chin as it travelled down.

"Oh, um. . . We'll give you a bit, Ron," Bill said and Ron heard him usher everyone back out quietly.

Ron looked around the room quickly. A comfortable looking chair sat in the corner nearest to him. He walked backwards to it, keeping his eyes trained on her as he grabbed the chair and pulled it over to her bedside. Ron stepped back to sit in the chair and found himself instantly eye level with a discolored bruise just beside Hermione's ear. He reached out his fingers and traced the curve of her ear and the side of her jaw. New, burning tears worked their ways out from his eyes.

"Hermione? I don't know if you can hear me," he brushed his thumb over her still lips, "but, I'm here and -" Ron looked to make sure that the door was shut and was glad to find that it was. "And I'm so sorry I wasn't there, that I got there too late to keep you safe." He exhaled and used his free hand to roughly brush his tears off. "Ugh, bawling like a baby," he muttered to himself, turning to look at the side table beside him. A jar of Bruise Removal Paste was sitting beside Skele-Gro and Ron almost smiled at the fact that St. Mungo's was using a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product. Skele-Gro meant broken bones then, didn't it. Ron looked up at the ceiling,

"Quit your blubbering, Weasley," he said to himself in his best imitation of Moody. He pushed his chair back and stood up in front of it to look down at Hermione. Ron glanced at the jar of paste and opened it, dipping in a finger and pulling out the thick yellow paste. Ron leaned over Hermione and gently rubbed the bruise paste into her cheek.

"I thought," he cleared his throat and looked at the bruise to make sure he'd covered all of it. He'd been about to say 'I thought you were gone, Hermione' but he found he couldn't make the words form out loud. He blinked away the urge to cry. He was done with that - he absolutely had to calm down. She was here and even though she looked small, horribly small, and horribly petrified like in second year.

Ron saw bruising on her neck that looked particularly nasty and felt the air turn thick around him. Hard to breathe. Those bastards had tried to strangle her. He took in heavy, greasy breaths in the stagnant air. "All I could think about was the prophecy and then when we got there - ", he whispered and then he paused talking to rub the paste into the smooth skin of her neck. He glanced up at her still closed eyes. Her eye lashes stood out darkly against her pale skin. He looked back down at her neck.

He took her chin in his hand and gently turned her head to make sure he'd covered the bruise before repeating the process again with the contusions on her arms. The thick yellow paste stood out against her skin. He leaned over her and gave her a gentle, chaste kiss on her non-bruised cheek. "Please, wake up," he closed his eyes and murmured against the soft skin of her cheek. "Please. So I can talk to you and make sure you're alright. . ." he opened his eyes. "Please, Hermione . . ."

She didn't move and Ron dropped back into his chair and reached a hand back up to rest on her bony, bare elbow. In a little while, Harry had knocked on the door and he and the family and Kingsley filed in. They all sat for a while until George, mum, and dad left to grab some food and bring back to Ron and Harry and Ginny who insisted on staying in the room even though a tense silence oozed from everyone. Bill and Fleur had a prenatal appointment at St. Mungo's Maternity Ward anyway the next day so they'd left after a few hours, promising to return the next day to see Hermione. Bill had put a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulder before he left. Fleur had leaned down, bumping Ron's arm with her growing stomach - the sight of it made Ron remember the feeling of thinking Hermione was pregnant and then the disappointment that she wasn't - as she spoke to him.

"She ees a fighter, Ron. She will be fine. I 'ave seen her hurt before, you remember. She ees one of ze strongest women I hav ever met," she said and kissed him on his cheek before she and Bill left the room.

The day dragged by: nurses flitted in and out, one nurse wiped off the yellow bruise paste and Ron was glad when Hermione's unblemished skin reappeared, Healer Chatelain checked in on Hermione, mum and dad returned and went to wait in the lobby and finally the pink light of dusk poured into the room. Harry and Ginny told Ron they'd stay if he wanted but he sent them home. No reason everyone should miss a good night's sleep, he'd told them. Really he just wanted the chance to stare at the delicate rise and fall of her chest and hold her unsprained wrist to feel her pulse under his fingers and tell her everything he should have told her before.

The moment they were alone Ron looked at Hermione's small face. "Hermione, please wake up. I have a thousand things to tell you, I've been thinking all day - "


	46. Pressure and a Question

**AN: I've had a couple people ask and I've divided up all the chapters and it looks like there will be (drumroll) 54 chapters, which is nuts because I started writing this aiming at 100,000 words and 30 chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing! **

_. . . Chapter 46 _

_. . . Pressure and a Question . . . _

* * *

Hermione felt pressure on her hand and tried to flail and shake off whatever had her but was horrified when she didn't feel her arm move at all.

" - and we can go and visit somewhere, just us - "

Hermione recognized it was Ron speaking and relaxed. A stabbing pain in her side made her tense up again, immediately.

"Please," he whispered from somewhere above her. "Wake up, 'Mione."

A pain in her side . . . Greyback! She'd . . . Where?

" - and Hermione if you wake up, I can tell you that I want to marry you. The sooner we get married, the better. Marry you and then when you want, start a family with you. Just," Hermione heard his voice break, "Hermione, please wake up and I'll ask you to be with me forever. Be my wife, Hermione. If you say yes, I swear I'll live the rest of my life for you and make sure no one ever hurts you again. . ."

She tried again to move her hand and felt a tiny movement in her hand. She struggled to say something - anything - to let Ron know she was awake.

"Sss," was all that came out when she tried to talk.

"Hermione! Do it again! Are you awake?" Ron said and she heard something scoot across the floor and then a dull thud.

"Ssay." Well at least that was a word, Hermione thought. She managed to get her eyes all the way open and was met with the tear-streaked, exhausted face of Ron Weasley smiling at her. The pressure on her hand was his hand she saw and wiggled her fingers. She coughed a bit to clear her throat. "Say that last bit again," she rasped.

"What?" Ron asked thickly, putting a hand on her cheek.

"Say that again, what you were just saying before," Hermione said in spite of her burning, dry throat.

She watched his tear-filled eyes search her face questioningly. "Before you talked?"

Hermione nodded up at him and watched his face light up in recognition.

"Hermione?" Ron said with his eyes glued to Hermione's and she knew he understood. She smiled up at him and felt her bottom lip stretch tightly and painfully.

"Ask me," she whispered before training her face into a serious expression. Ron's face grew thoughtful in the flash of an instant and she felt him brush the thumb on her face across her cheek. The hand holding hers tightened.

"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione couldn't control the happy and painful grin that she felt on her face. "Yes, Ronald Weasley, I will."

He leaned down over her face, she shut her eyes and felt his tears hit her skin as his lips brushed hers, his touch feather light. "Hermione," he mumbled against her mouth, "I love you so much and don't - don't ever - " He broke off and leaned away from her and she opened her eyes to meet his.

"I love you, Ron," she said but then her dry, rough throat demanded attention so she brought a hand up to it and swallowed thickly.

"Water?" he asked her, looking alarmed.

"Please," she croaked and nodded.

"Alright, I've got to leave for a minute, be right back," he leaned over her and kissed her on her forehead before stepping back and looking at her sideways. "You're going to marry me?" he asked, she smiled and nodded. "We're engaged?" he asked again looking for all the world like he couldn't believe it.

"Yes, fiancé," she scratched out, "we're engaged." Ron rubbed his bloodshot eyes and beamed at her before backing out of the room and stepping into the hallway. She grinned in the empty room. Out of the frying pan and into a dream . . .

Hermione heard him shout down the hall that she was awake and needed water and for someone to tell his parents on the first floor. His face reappeared a moment later and he shuffled back to her side and she watched him bend down to pick up his fallen chair. A nurse bustled into the room with a tray carrying a pitcher and glass.

"Miss Granger, Healer Chatelain is your Healer and he'll be here in a bit to see after you," she set the tray down on the side table beside Ron, "if there's anything else you need just send your friend out - "

"Fiancé," Ron corrected the nurse and Hermione felt her stomach bubble with excitement. "I'm her fiancé."

The nurse smiled at him warmly and nodded as she turned to leave the room. Ron grabbed the glass and filled it from the pitcher and guided it to Hermione's unwrapped hand. Water had never tasted so good. She cut her eyes at her bandaged arm and then back up at Ron, who glanced down at the bandage.

"I dunno for sure," he said quietly, "but there's Skele-Gro by your bed, so - "

"Is she awake?" Mrs. Weasley appeared around the door and hurried into the room.

She smiled at Mrs. Weasley but before she could say anything, Ron spoke.

"She is and we're getting married," Ron announced looking from his parents to Hermione. A bright, unfathomably happy expression crossed over his face before fading into something serious as he turned back to her.

Mrs. Weasley had put a hand to her chest and had a soft, sappy smile on her face when Hermione turned from Ron to her future mother-in-law. Mr. Weasley had a smile plastered on his face as well and Hermione couldn't help but smile back. Ron had blurted to the first three people he'd seen that they were engaged. She felt incandescently happy even in spite of her aching, tired bones.

"Oh, Ronald, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron and put a hand on Hermione's upper arm. With a jolt, Hermione realized she was laying under the blanket with no shirt on. Her shoulder had a white bandage taped to it. "We're so glad you're alright dear. You're two halves of the same whole and we," Mrs. Weasley looked at Mr. Weasley, "are so glad that Ron still has you, dear." The word _still_ seemed to hang in the air briefly.

"Congratulations, Ron," Mr. Weasley embraced his son and looked down at Hermione, "Hermione. To the both of you." Hermione felt her side throb painfully. A flash of memory with Greyback cursing her with slicing hexes as she screamed sprung to the front of her mind. Hermione moved to sit up a bit in bed. Ron must've seen the a dark look cross her face or her pathetic attempt to move.

"'Mi?" Ron stepped closer to her and hovered both hands above her in indecision. "What d'you need?"

"I sort of want to sit up," a hoarse but stronger voice came from her mouth. She remembered she wasn't wearing a shirt. "And a hospital gown, I guess." She blushed at having to admit that in front of Mr. Weasley but he nodded comprehendingly at her.

"I'll ask the nurse and wait in the hall," Mr. Weasley said and moved to follow through on his offer.

Ron took the empty glass of water from Hermione and refilled it, handing it back to her. She looked at him gratefully while he clenched his jaw at her in a tense approximation of a smile.

A nurse came in with a papery-cotton green gown and handed it to Mrs. Weasley who waved off her offer to help them. Mrs. Weasley and Ron shared a look above her. She was suddenly tiny, like a mouse being looked down at on the floor. . . like she'd been sprawled out mostly naked on the floor in front of those men like a meal. She inhaled sharply and both of them looked down at her in alarm.

"No, I'm alright, just - " she didn't want to tell them she was remembering and make Ron worry. His blue eyes seemed to peek through her mind and she watched them narrow at her.

"Here," Ron brought a hand behind her head and pushed her to help her sit up. Hermione felt the blanket slip and tried to grab at it, mortified. "Hush, Hermione, let us help you," he whispered and Hermione felt Mrs. Weasley slip a hand behind her bare shoulder blade.

"Yes, dear. Come on, now," she gently encouraged Hermione to sit up. With a horrible dawning, she realized she didn't have anything covering her bum either, the blanket thankfully pooled around her, covering any other parts from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione glanced down and saw bruises and an enormous white bandage on her side - panic set in. The last thing she'd seen.

The question came bubbling up out of her throat before she could stop and consider that she was topless in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Did he bite me?" she tried to ask it nonchalantly, like she didn't care about a hideous scar or any additional changes she'd encounter.

"No, sweetheart, he didn't," Mrs. Weasley said, unfolding the gown and holding it open for her. "Into the gown," she said gently. Hermione lifted the bandaged arm and threaded it through the arm hole. She lifted her other arm but the bandage at her shoulder stretched painfully at the movement and she winced. Ron's hands found her arm, she felt him gently move her arm into the gown and pull the gown up her shoulder to cover her battered body.

"So - " Hermione felt Mrs. Weasley's hands at the back of the gown, tying it shut at the base of her neck. She remembered screaming and scrambling away and hands at her neck. "So, then - The Deluminator?" She looked up at Ron who nodded at her. Nodding back, she felt Mrs. Weasley prop another pillow behind her for her to lean against. "You and - ?" she asked.

"Pretty much the entire Auror Department," he answered, maneuvering to sit on the bed beside her thigh to look at her. "Everyone there is now dead or has been arrested," Ron said, meeting her eyes significantly.

Mrs. Weasley made a sound reminiscent of one of those obnoxious coughs of Umbridge's. Ron and Hermione turned to look at her. "Dears, I'm going to go out and stay with Arthur we'll be back in the morning, unless - "

"No, yeah, that's fine. I'm staying," Ron interrupted and explained to his mother who nodded and placed a hand on top of his hair before she left the room, promising to be back as early as possible.

Once Mrs. Weasley was out of the room, Hermione looked at Ron and asked a question she already knew the answer to.

"Was it you?" she asked and then realized how ambiguous her words were, "Who killed Greyback?"

"Yes," he said darkly but she noticed the satisfied set of his mouth and the way he had raised his chin when he'd confirmed it. She nodded and felt a rushing relief.

"Thank you," she whispered, looking down at the woven fabric of the blanket.

"My pleasure," he snorted once before putting a finger under her chin and raising her face. "I thought he'd killed you, Hermione." She saw a thousand things in his eyes that she wanted to respond to but not a single phrase sufficed.

"He didn't." It was a feeble response and she knew he knew it.

"The prophecy - "

"That bloody prophecy!" she exclaimed but her throat protested and she coughed. Ron handed her her water.

"Hermione," Ron took advantage of her temporary occupation with her drink, "it's all I could think about and I kept thinking of how it said '_When _- "

"Ron, for the last time: I never want to talk about that prophecy again. I don't believe in Divination," she said firmly but quietly. Her heart seized a bit at her lie. In all truth she had considered the prophecy in the heat of the moment as no less than absolute truth.

He nodded at her seriously and spoke again, "I think that was it though, Hermione. It's over."

She looked at him curiously, "What do you mean?"

He smirked at her. She'd been baited into this like she had by Harry and Ron time and time again. "Well, I wouldn't want to presume but it did say something about _'Her one love will repay those who took her' _didn't it?" It had. She nodded. "So, unless you plan to get yourself taken again which will _not_ happen then, that's it, right? Dodged it?" It made sense so she nodded again. Her side ached and Hermione pressed her hand gently against it, the pressure seemed to help.

"You alright?" Ron stood up off the bed and looked her up and down.

"Yeah, just sore and tired," she replied honestly and she settled deep in a half-reclined position against the two pillows. Ron sat back down and she patted the bed beside her hip.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, staying planted where he was.

"Please, Ron. Lay next to me," she commanded lightly. He sighed and awkwardly twisted to lay beside her on his side.

"Happy?" he asked, visibly trying not to jostle her.

"Yes," she answered, closing her eyes, glad for the contact of her uninjured shoulder and Ron's chest.

"'Mione?"

"Hmm?" She was more exhausted than she'd thought. Her eyes were practically rejoicing at being shut again.

"Still want to marry me?"

"Always," she whispered back before drifting off into sleep.

* * *

"'Mione? Hermione?" Gentle whispers woke her up and she struggled to open her burning eyes. "Hermione, Healer Chatelain is here. You've got to wake up now," Ron's voice washed over her and Hermione finally won the battle to open her eyes.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," the man she assumed to be her Healer spoke brightly. "I'm Healer Chatelain and I just need to do a quick run through with you and see how you're doing. We can check these bandages and then hopefully have you home on Christmas Eve morning."

Hermione turned her bleary eyes upon Ron and his eyebrows creased in confusion. She turned back to the Healer. "So then, how long was I . . ."

"Just about seventeen hours or so," the Healer said, pulling out her chart and making notes. "You must have a very low tolerance for potions and the like. We've noted it in case you're ever back here."

The cracking of Ron's knuckles were the only sounds in the room for the next minute or more.

"Ok, what I'm about to do is run a few diagnostic spells and I'll need to check the way your spell damage is healing so if you," the Healer glanced at Ron, "would please step to the other side of the curtain. . . " A curtain unfurled from the ceiling and Ron shuffled out and out of sight. The curtain hung over a foot off of the ground and the pacing of Ron's shoes gave her something to train her eyes on. "Ok, Miss Granger, I'm going to look at your shoulder first." The Healer said gently, moving to the back of her neck to untie the gown. Her face flamed up as he pulled the gown down to reveal her shoulders. Chatelain gently magicked the bandage off and Hermione studiously avoided looking down at it. "That's healing very well, bandage could probably come off in about a day, maybe the next. Now your side." The Healer's dry hands pulled the gown back up on her shoulders and moved to pull the blanket down and to the side. Embarrassment rolled off of her in waves. Rationally, she knew the Healers had seen her completely naked but it was different being conscious for it all. He pushed the hem of the hospital gown up and Hermione fought to keep her blush under control. Again, he magicked the bandage across her side off and remarked that it too would be able to come off in a day or so. The scratchy fabric of the gown was pulled back down to her thighs and he pulled the blanket back over her. Being covered had never been so relieving. "Do you want him back in here for - "

"Yes," she said softly. "Ron?"

The curtain swooped and curled back up to its previously unnoticed spot on the ceiling. Ron came to stand near the foot of her bed on the side opposite the Healer. He must have noticed her discomfort because he put a hand on her unbandaged wrist, running his thumb over the skin there with light pressure. _Fiancé_. A jolt of giddiness went through her even in the hospital at the prospect of marrying Ron.

"Alright, so when you came in your injuries were," he cleared his throat, breaking her out of her reverie, "extensive. Your arm is, obviously, broken, though the Skele-Gro should mean we can take the bandages off tomorrow morning. The spell damage - the lacerations - to your shoulder and side both resulted in heavy blood loss so . . . " The Healer pulled a vial of Blood Replenishing Potion out of his pocket and looked at Hermione. A suddenly very pale Ron stepped forward and took it, turning it over in his hand. "Right, so you'll need to take the dosage written on the back of the vial twice a day until it's gone. Also, we found evidence of the Cruciatus Curse and past damage that indicates you had been Cruciated before . . . " The Healer broke off and looked at her strangely, she realized he was waiting for confirmation.

Training her eyes to stay off of Ron, she nodded.

"Right," Chatelain bent over the chart and made some sort of notation. "Well, after you are Cruciated there are two potions that we usual deem necessary at St. Mungo's. A nerve repairing potion and a deep tissue healing potion that combats the way the body tenses up during the curse," he pulled two vials out and handed them to Ron. "Generally, we send everyone home with a Strengthening Potion who has had some sort of trauma." Another vial was pressed into Ron's now full hands. Four vials. Red, ice-blue, purple, yellow. "Finally, the cuts and scrapes we went ahead and repaired but bruises from the event might continue to show up so the Bruise Removal Paste should be applied as necessary as well." Healer Chatelain produced a small tub of the paste and handed it to Ron, who turned and put all the potions on the side table near her head. One look at his face revealed a sickly green coloring.

"Now do either of you have any questions for me?" the Healer asked, crossing his arms over the chart and looking from Ron to Hermione.

Hermione looked up at Ron and shook her head lightly. The only thing she wanted to know was when she could go home and that was apparently not for another day. Ron frowned at her and then looked over at the Healer.

"What's the recovery time? What about if she'll be able to travel by Floo or Apparate?" Ron asked, stepping so that his leg rested against the side of her mattress.

"Well, as soon as she leaves, she'll be fine to go Side-Along," the Healer said to Ron before turning to look at her while he talked. "I wouldn't recommend any solo trips until you've finished at least the Blood Replenishing and Strengthening potions. Floo is fine but try to go through with someone else if you can, just to be on the safe side. Oh! And I'd owl your work, Miss Granger, I wouldn't recommend you return until you've finished all your potions which should be about two weeks. I dare say you'd like to avoid the publicity anyway," the Healer finished with a smile. Hermione cut her eyes up at Ron.

"_Daily Prophet_," Ron muttered, color heating his face.

"Anything else?" the Healer moved to the door before she could wrap her head around the conundrum of the _Daily Prophet_ and what exactly that old rag said now.

"What about a bath or - "

"No baths until we send you home. And get some help with that. You'll do more harm by falling than pretty much anything else," the Healer interrupted. "I'll be back to take the bandages off tomorrow if they're ready," he said turning to Ron. "I'd send after an outfit for her to wear home, something soft and comfortable."

Ron nodded and shut the door behind the Healer when he went out into the hall. Ron turned back to her and Hermione remembered Bill's brief talk with her in the Weasley's kitchen from his birthday.

"Can I get you anything?" he whispered from the door.

"No, just - " she yawned and immediately regretted it. Her side and newly healed lip both protested the movement. A grimace and hiss of pain alerted Ron to her discomfort and he was beside her in an instant.

"'Mi?"

"No, I'm alright," she panted out. "Just, will you turn off the light so we can sleep?"

Ron nodded, flipping the light into his Deluminator, and moving the chair to the edge of her bed. He rested his head on the edge of the mattress beside her wrist.

"Get up here with me," she said gently.

"I don't want to hurt you, I'll sleep down here." His tone was rough and even without the lights in the room, she knew he was teetering on the edge of tears.

She brought her hand to Ron's silky hair and ran her fingers through. Ron's sob broke the silence of the room and Hermione felt him gently take hold of her hand, turning it so that he could press his cheek into her palm. The reality of the situation made the room spin. She could have been killed and Ron would be grieving beside her body. Would he ever have been the same? His tears ran in rivulets against her fingers. She could have missed this, missed him, missed out on a life together. Tears welled up in her eyes and she brushed her thumb across Ron's wet cheek as she and her future husband cried together in the dark.


	47. Home and Christmas

_. . . Chapter 47 _

_. . . Home and Christmas . . . _

* * *

Two quick knocks on the door made Ron jerk his head off of the mattress. Finally, Christmas Eve. Finally, they'd get to take her home. Harry stirred in his seat next to the window where he'd stayed with them the second night.

"Miss Granger?" The welcome voice of Chatelain came in through the door.

Ron glanced up into Hermione's sleeping face. "Baby, wake up," he whispered, bringing a hand to move some of the sleep-tousled curls aside. "Ba - "

Hermione jumped awake, gasping with her eyes wide and frantic. Her terrified reaction made him breathless and he brought a hand to her unhurt shoulder, gently anchoring her back to the pillows.

"Chatelain is at the door," Ron murmured, watching her eyes calm down with a heavy heart. He mentally cursed himself for scaring her. "Want me to let him in so we can go home, baby?"

She nodded, relaxing on the mattress under his hand and Ron called out, "Come in." Harry twitched awake in the chair and dragged a hand down his face.

"Good morning, " the Healer said, walking through the door. "Today's the day, heading home. Feeling better?"

Hermione cleared her throat, taking care not to breathe too deeply, he noticed, frowning. "Yes, better."

"Been taking your potions, says your chart. That's good," the Healer pointed his wand up where the privacy curtain lay in wait. "If you two," he looked from Ron to Harry, "will please stand on the other side, we'll get these bandages off and send you on your way." Ron gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and then moved away from her over to Harry.

The clinical-cream curtain cut their view from Hermione. Harry stood and stretched, extending his arms up to the ceiling.

"Ready?" Harry asked quietly.

"Beyond," Ron answered, raking a hand through his hair. "Where are her clothes?" Harry pointed wordlessly over to a low counter where a bag of Hermione's things sat. He'd sent mum and dad to the house to fetch and bring back Hermione's things. That'd been an awkward conversation. His mum had narrowed her eyes suspiciously when Ron knew exactly where Hermione's nicest looking black lounge pants were, where her knickers and bras were, and then had tilted her head incredulously when he'd told her to grab one of his own white undershirts to put under Hermione's grey sweater. His mum's judgment was a small price to pay, however, for getting to stay with Hermione instead of having to leave to find her clothes. Mum and dad and Harry had repaired the damage to the house and Harry said that yesterday Silvestri, Harding, and Parnell had repaired and strengthened the wards on the house. They were finally going home.

"Alright, Miss Granger, shoulder bandage first," Chatelain's voice came from behind the curtain.

Harry shifted and put a reassuring hand on his upper arm.

"Looks good, looks really good. Should completely fade soon. Now the side." A rustle of blankets and movement from behind the curtain punctuated the healer's muffled statement. "This one is healing well, the bandage can stay off but this is going to probably scar, I'm sorry. . . Alright," another series of noises had Ron imagining the blanket being pulled back up. "I'll go turn in your chart. You're discharged from St. Mungo's. Try to take it easy and remember to keep up with your potions. If you need anything, feel free to Floo or owl, alright?"

"Alright," Hermione's sweet voice spoke up. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Healer Chatelain said, reemerging from behind the curtain. "If someone will help her get dressed, then you'll be ready to go," Chatelain said, nodding at Ron as he left the room. Ron ran his palms down the front of his jeans.

"Ron?" Hermione called out softly.

His feet suddenly felt glued in place. What if he didn't take good enough care of her? What if she fell or reinjured herself somehow?

"Ron, go on. I'll be out here when you are both ready," Harry muttered, releasing Ron's arm from his grip and giving him a mild shove toward the curtain and putting the bag of Hermione's clothes in his hands.

Coming around the curtain, Ron found Hermione still in the bed and already trying to wiggle out of the hospital gown. Every couple movements moved the papery material off of her shoulder enough to reveal a skinny pale pink scar. He forced himself not to react. This was happy, they were going home.

"Hermione, let me help you," he said, moving over to the edge of the bed, putting the bag in the chair he'd lived in for the last couple days.

Hermione huffed and let Ron ease her arms out of the gown. He kept his eyes trained on her face as best he could. The awkward awareness of new scars made it especially difficult not to let his eyes shift from hers, wide and trusting. He tossed the gown over the foot of the bed, turning away to fish her underthings from the bag. Turning back to her, his eyes betrayed him, straying to her side. A dark pink scar on her side, the width of two fingers, wrapped her side. It was still that visible after the Healers and after two days under the blankets. . . He realized he'd stared too long and met her troubled gaze.

"It's - " her voice shook.

He dropped her things on the bed beside her and took her face in his large hands. "No scar, no _thing_ like that matters to me. You matter." Her eyes slid over his face and he was horrified to see tears welling up there. "We're getting ready and we're going to go home, alright?"

She seemed to draw herself up, blinking and nodded. "Alright." He nodded at her and picked her bra up off of the bed.

"Um, I didn't know if you'd want - " he began awkwardly. He didn't want it to rub her shoulder.

"Yes, will you, um. . . " she held her arms out and he slid the straps up carefully and reached behind her to fasten it. "Well this is different, you're usually trying to get that off me," Hermione said, humor heavy in her voice. A snort from the other side of the curtain reminded him that Harry was still in the room.

He felt himself grin for possibly the first time since he and Harry had come to their house the night she'd been taken. "Don't get used to this," he muttered, kissing her lightly on her cheek as he drew back and picked up her white knickers. He threaded her feet through, determined to be a perfect gentleman and helped her stand to finish pulling them up. After those days in the bed, Hermione stood shakily, using his arms for balance. "You alright?"

"Yeah, pants?"

"Um," he kept one arm on her to steady her and reached a long arm for the bag, finding her black pants. "Alright, can you hold onto me?" she nodded and they worked together to finish getting her dressed to go home. Soon enough, Ron had the empty bag slung over a shoulder, one arm around Hermione, and the other holding her closest hand and they were walking around the curtain to see Harry pacing.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, moving to take Hermione's other arm.

"Yes, I'm not fragile. I'm just shaky. I can walk you know," she said, angling her face up to narrow her eyes at him.

He knew she probably could for a short distance but not the entire way out of the hospital after the way Healer Chatelain had warned him. Rather than argue, he decided to agree. "I know, it makes me feel better for us to help you."

Hermione _humphed _and looked forward. Harry shot him a look of disbelief over Hermione's head at Ron saying he knew she could walk. Ron shook his head slightly at Harry and the three of them moved slowly and carefully out of the room, out of St. Mungo's and into their backyard.

Once inside, Hermione glanced around at where Ron knew the Floo powder had broken and spilt.

"Alright, let's get you in bed before - "

"No. I want a bath. A proper bath instead of spells. I'm not going back to bed, I just got out of one," Hermione sassed. Ron would've smirked at her bossiness returning but he was too worried she'd over do it on the first day home. Even so, he couldn't deny her first bossy request.

"Alright, Harry - " Ron said, walking her to her doorway.

"I'm going to go update your family if that's alright," Harry said quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the back door.

"Your family, too," Ron reminded him without looking back, keeping up with Hermione's shuffling steps.

"Right, be back within the hour," Harry said, starting for the back door.

Ron managed to talk Hermione into leaning against the sink while he filled the tub.

"I can do this myself, Ron," she spoke with a light whine undercutting her words.

"Hermione, I'm helping you. End of discussion." He reached an arm out and felt the temperature of the water coming from the tap. He couldn't leave her, couldn't let her fall after they'd been told she needed to take it easy. He stood and helped her out of her clothes.

"Told you not to get used to it," Ron said, trying to sound as upbeat as he could.

"Used to what?" she asked, bewilderment coloring her expression.

"Me dressing instead of undressing you," his face heated up as he said it. Hermione smiled and nodded, rolling her eyes and took a couple steps toward the tub. He immediately brought his hands up to her arms. "Wait for me to help you, _please,_ Hermione."

She glared at him but let him guide her the rest of the way into the tub. The entire time he washed her hair and helped her bathe, Hermione blushed and apologized. Finally, he was helping her stand, spelling her hair dry, and wrapping her slender body in a towel.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I - "

"I swear on Merlin's beard, Hermione, if you apologize one more time I'm going to explode."

"But it's. . . I just wish - "

"What do those wedding vows we will be saying say, hm? Something about in sickness and in health I believe - so if you will give the apologies a rest, I would be eternally grateful, literally," he said quickly, drying her arms off with the towel and helping her step out of the tub. When he looked back up at her face, she wore a smirk and had one eyebrow lifted up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he found himself smirking back at her. The towel was oversized on her as she stood on the rug.

"Like what may I ask," she said, cheekiness lighting up her tired features.

"Like _that_, I can feel you thinking something clever and witty about our marriage vows and I want you to quit," he took her by the elbow and led her into her room.

"You're much bossier as a fiancé," she muttered as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. He actually laughed.

"You're always bossy," he retorted, leaving her sitting while he went back to retrieve the white undershirt. Her indignant exhale of breath made him feel _almost_ normal again. He put her back in the white undershirt and helped her under the covers, laying beside her until she found sleep. A few minutes later, a pop of Apparation brought Harry's and Ginny's voices whispering into the living room. What was today? Christmas Eve, so . . .

Ron eased up out of the bed, careful so he didn't disturb her and slipped out of her room. Harry and Ginny immediately agreed to stay with her, he grabbed his heaviest cloak and slid on his boots.

With the pearl ring in his pocket and Hermione safely attended by Harry and Ginny, Ron Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and walked purposefully down Diagon Alley to get the rings he should have gotten the first time.

* * *

On Christmas morning, Hermione stood up from bed quickly and walked to the door of her bathroom before stopping and grabbing the door frame for support before Ron could react die to the Dreamless Sleep that clogged his brain first thing in the mornings. Ron jumped up and was soon supporting most of her weight at her waist with his arms.

"I don't need help, I'm not weak, Ron," she said waveringly.

"Bloody hell, _Hermione_. You're the strongest person I know. It's not weak to ask for help," he forced himself not to yell at her. Fear that she'd fall gripped his chest painfully. He was suddenly aware that he had a hand on her scar through his white shirt. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked breathlessly.

"No, you're not but I have to pee so if we could speed this along, that would be brilliant," she ground out and he loosened his grip on her only slightly to help her to her bathroom. "I've got it from here," she said, wiggling away from his hands.

He nodded. "I'll be right here. Call me if you need - "

She shut the door between them and Ron found himself smiling at the doorknob and waiting on her to remerge which she did only a couple minutes later with a smug smile that faded quickly. "What're we doing for Christmas? I thought your family would . . . "

"We're all going over for lunch. We're having lunch there and then gifts after and we'll come back here," he explained quickly, itching to put his hands on her to steady her as she walked back to the bed. She lay back down without his help. Hermione angled her head up on the pillow to look at the muted winter light filtering into the room.

"What time is it?" she glanced at his wrist and he turned his watch.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "S'already ten o'clock."

Hermione yawned and Ron saw her grab at the already fading mark on her lip. "I don't think I've ever slept that late."

He frowned at her as she tried to hide her reaction to the pain. "Hermione, why didn't you tell me you're still hurting?"

Her eyes darted from his face to the floor. "I'm not, I - "

"Hermione," he forced himself to say it all calmly. "I've been meaning to talk to you about this and. . . " He wished there was a better time to discuss it but here they were. "Hermione, you leave out too much with me. You don't tell me enough and I know it's that you're trying to keep me from worrying but we're about to be married. There can't be anymore secrets or anymore 'leaving-outs', yeah?" He was immediately glad he'd said it. The constant last worry that hung over his head about Hermione and his relationship was finally laid bare and honest.

She looked at him sheepishly but nodded and cleared her throat with a cough. "I'm sore, my side, and my lip stings a bit," she admitted with a whisper.

He nodded and frowned that she was still hurting but was glad she'd admitted it. Potions, right. He reminded her of the potions, gave her the right doses, and by the time they'd gotten all that out of the way it was time to get dressed and visit the Burrow.

Once there, mum had quickly moved the group into the kitchen from where everyone stood talking in the living room. Ron shot a thankful look at his mum over Hermione's head. Christmas dinner was traditional - the food and the atmosphere were standard Weasley fare. Ron kept glancing at Hermione who was a bit quiet but managed to eat half of the large portion he'd purposefully put on her plate. Bill and Fleur were with the Delacour family today and were visiting tomorrow. It left an unwelcome gap in the table.

Finally, the time for ripping wrapping paper to shreds had come around. A few years ago, the Weasley family usually just had a free-for-all where gifts to you and maybe the person next to you were all you saw. Christmases had mellowed only slightly as the years went by.

Immediately, George pulled out a box wrapped in the least subtle wrapping paper ever. It literally sparkled, sparks of light exploded inches off of the surface of the box. George moved over toward them and handed it to Hermione. Hermione frowned as she took the box and looked up at George.

"Well, been working on this for a while, Hermione. Figured I'd try something useful for - " he paused and shrugged, "well, you'll see."

Hermione was cautiously opening the package like it was going to attack her. George laughed. "It's not going to bite you, Hermione." She cut her eyes at him and lifted the top off of the box. A thin silver bracelet of three strands of braided metal lay atop a navy cushion. "Ok, now," George leaned forward excitedly. "Put it on. Left arm," he commanded.

Hermione glanced around the room self-consciously - oh right, her left was the scarred one - before sliding the braided metal over her wrist. "It's pretty, Geo -"

"Roll your sleeve up," George grinned. Ron leaned forward to watch her bunch her sleeve up her arm. Where her scar had been before, smooth, flawless skin.

"George!" Hermione made to stand and Ron was glad when George stepped toward her so she didn't have to get up. She had tears in her eyes. "How? I've tried everything! Glamours didn't work - "

"No, no I know - that curse and all. It's tricky but the bracelet carries a charm that hides the scars. Glamours have to be applied to the body but I figured this would work," George was beaming at his handy work, "It did, huh? Like it?"

"Love it!" Hermione cried, wiping tears from her face. "You have no idea." Ron did have an idea, knew she tugged at her sleeves when she was nervous, knew she hated for even him to see it on her skin. He grinned for and at her.

"We have one for you too, George," Ron said, pointing at the gift beside the chair George had just indicated. George tore into the silver wrapping paper that Hermione had picked out. "From the three of us," Ron explained as George pulled a book out of the tissue paper.

George looked up at Hermione.

"It's for when you're brainstorming new ideas," Harry explained, reading George's face. "Ginny says you're always writing things down and loosing ideas so this parchment is trained to you and when you write things down on scraps of paper, you have to write a little phrase - something you make up - and then it appears in the book." George's face split into a wide smile.

"Clever," he complimented, looking up at Hermione. Hermione always got the credit. He couldn't find it in himself to be upset with that. Ginny leaned forward on the couch cushion she shared with Harry and eyed George's gift suspiciously.

Ron glanced up at his cloak where it hung, heavy with Hermione's wedding rings. He wanted to show her the wedding band and then was determined to take it into Gringotts the very next day. Carrying things that important and that expensive made him feel antsy.

His nerves before revealing the ring to Hermione built up the more gifts they unwrapped. Harry had gotten Hermione a book, Ron didn't pay attention to the subject matter or title but Hermione seemed delighted. Harry unwrapped the pair of dragon hide gloves that Ron and Hermione had selected. Ron opened his gift from Harry and found himself staring at the long awaited Keeper Gloves. Ginny snorted at them for getting each other gloves unknowingly.

Ron remembered the gift for his parents back at their house and sent Harry Flooing back for it while Hermione opened her gift from Ginny.

"Read the card first," Ginny commanded, glancing at the Floo with furrowed brows.

"To Hermione, for graduation. Don't argue," Hermione read and then grinned. "If this is what I think it is . . . " She opened the package and pulled out a new set of robes, a shade of cream that looked perfect against Hermione skin tone even in the winter. "Oh Ginny! They're beautiful."

"Are they what you thought?" Ginny asked, sitting up straighter when Harry came into the room with the bird cage.

"Yes, open yours from me," Hermione said, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

Ginny tore into the packaging and pulled out a set of light blue robes. A note fell out and Ginny snatched it up, reading it aloud. "To Ginny, thought you'd like a new set for graduation. Love, Hermione!" The two sets of gloves and then the two sets of robes had the room chuckling lightly. Hermione laughed but cut it short, pressing an elbow against her side.

Harry nodded at him so Ron sat forward a bit. "Mum, dad, we - Hermione, Harry, and me - are getting you an owl so that you don't keep sending Ministry owls our way. They are dreadful snappy and you'll be able to owl us whenever instead of waiting for another owl. The cage is a place holder," he finished as Harry presented his mum with the wire cage.

Mum thanked them all in turn and Ron felt like the entire afternoon was on fast forward. Didn't they know he was about to present Hermione with an engagement ring? That he wanted this to take him a little longer to work up the nerve?

Unwrapping his gift from mum and dad made him nervous, he almost wished for the unorganized chaos of previous years. Having everyone watching made him nervous. Out of the slim envelope, a slip of paper in mum's script slid into his hands. He glanced up at his mum and she smiled and nodded.

_Ronald and Hermione, _

_For years we have suspected and hoped that you would marry. We are so proud and excited that you are about to begin your life together. We are honored to give you the gift of paying for the wedding and honeymoon for you. _

_We love you so much,_

_Mum and Dad_

Tears built up in his eyes as he finished reading their note. He pushed off of the couch, carefully not to lean against Hermione as he stood. Crossing the floor quickly between them, he bent down to where his mum and dad sat in kitchen chairs they'd pulled into the living room. Putting an arm around each of them, he tried to put everything he felt into that embrace.

"Thank you both, so much," he whispered thickly.

"Well? What is it?" George asked, breaking the emotive silence. Ron backed away, standing and wiping at his eyes before turning from his parents warm eyes to the room.

"They're going to pay for the wedding," he announced thickly, humbled by their gift. Hermione was wiping her eyes and smiling from her spot on the couch.

"Well it's sort of hard to top that, then," Charlie laughed, clapping a hand on Ron's back as he walked back by to sit beside Hermione.

Charlie's gift to the three of them was dragon scales that you tossed in the fire to turn the flames into animated stories. He said he'd learned that only certain types of dragons' scales worked like that off of a gypsy. Mum had not looked like she approved. Charlie thanked them for his sweets and pasties that they gave him. "To remind you to come home once in a while, eh?" George quipped.

Percy took their gift, thanking them profusely for the bone office supplies that matched the one quill holder they knew he already had. Percy gave the three of them a crystal Floo powder vase. Hermione smirked down at it in her hands. They hadn't told Percy of their broken Floo vase. How could he have known? Mum? Coincidence? Hermione thanked Percy and wrapped the crystal back in the paper it had been packed in.

Ron glanced around the room and saw the piles of gifts dwindling. Ginny gave Harry a set of new dragon hide boots. Ron noticed they matched Harry's gloves perfectly. "We coordinated," Hermione whispered. Typical. Ginny unwrapped a nice set of diamond and gold earrings from Harry that she cooed over. Ron mentally did a count of the gifts. Theirs, his and Hermione's, were two of the few left. When Hermione asked Harry to bring over Ron's gift, Ron felt his palms get clammy and wiped them on the front of his jeans before taking her gift in his hands. The red wrapping paper tore off of a grey box that he slid the top off of. It took a moment for his brain to make sense of what he was staring at and he turned gaping at Hermione's nervous smile.

"Do you like it?" she asked and Ron felt his family lean forward to look at it.

"Like it?" he asked incredulously. "It's a Chameleon Sheath," he announced to the room that gasped their approval. He picked it up carefully, examining the craft of Hermione's engraving of his name. "This is amazing! Where'd you get it?"

Hermione blushed beside him. "Secret," she said, smirking and looking back down at his hands.

He raised an eyebrow at her and fumbled to put the holster on his left arm. The strap at his elbow where his Hermione had engraved his name secured it in place and Ron pulled his wand out of his back pocket. He was so excited about his gift that his hand shook a bit as he tried to put the wand into place. Once there, the wand and sheath disappeared against his arm. Suddenly he realized, Hermione had said that Greyback disarmed her. He'd killed Greyback. He was the Master of the Elder Wand. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. Where was the wand now? Coming back into his senses, Ron focused his eyes back on the gift.

"Bloody hell," he said, turning to kiss a flustered Hermione on the cheek.

"Thought it'd be perfect for work," she said softly, bringing her fingertips to her cheek. He stood to let his brothers and Harry fuss over it, sitting back down only when his mum stood up and brought Hermione a gift.

Mum placed a wooden box on Hermione's lap and took a step back. "Now this," mum motioned at the box, "has been passed down to women marrying into the Weasley family for generations. Arthur's mum gave it to me when I joined the family." Ron leaned forward to see what family heirloom mum was talking about.

Hermione opened the box and a silver serving set glinted in the light. It looked a right sight better than it ever had. Ron recognized it immediately as the one that mum said was too nice to ever have out around them when they'd been little. It had sat for most of its life - at least that Ron had know - in one of the top cabinets in the kitchen.

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione exclaimed, picking up a silver cup. "This is beautiful!"

"It's only silver-plate, but . . . " Mum broke off, looking very pleased with herself despite her words.

"It's gorgeous," she breathed, putting the teacup back and handing Ron the box. Hermione stood with the help of the arm on the couch and hugged his mum tightly. "Thank you so much," Hermione whispered.

"You're welcome, dear," mum whispered back. Ron immediately recognized that all the gifts were opened. His heart raced ahead of him. Mum stepped back and helped Hermione sit back down and Ron stood off of the couch and walked to the hook that held his cloak on legs that didn't seem to work so well anymore. When he felt the velvet box at his fingertips, he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. For Merlin's sake, he'd already proposed and already thought out how to say this. He turned back to face his family and hid the ring as he walked by holding his arm tight against his side. His family had been waiting on his return and he wished they'd quit staring. He stopped in front of Hermione and kneeled in front of her where she sat. Face to face.

"Hermione," he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. "I know you've already agreed to be my wife but I'd be honored if you'd wear this ring." He snapped the velvet box open and saw her eyes light up and her face form a crumpled, teary smile.

"Yes," she half-sobbed, half-laughed, hiding her mouth behind her left hand.

"Well, I'm probably gonna need that hand then," he chuckled, a euphoric grin splashed across his features. His family laughed from somewhere behind him as Hermione gave him her hand as she laughed and a few tears slipped out of her brown eyes. He pulled the small ring out of the box and slid the engagement ring onto her small finger.

"Toast!", "Congratulations again!", "Bout time!", "Well, done!" and a chorus of other well wishers erupted behind him but he kept his eyes on the watery brown eyes he loved so much. The rest of the afternoon and evening, Hermione kept smiling at him. Seeing her wearing the ring made it so much more real. He caught her glancing down at it a couple times and grinning. Ron tucked that smile away, her private smile at her engagement ring made him swell with pride that he'd chosen right. A one of a kind ring for his soon to be wife. Unreal. His whole life was unreal. Just a few days ago, he'd been standing filled with terror in the Ministry of Magic and now Hermione was saying goodbye to his parents and his parents were telling him to take care of his bride.

Stepping back into their living room - just the two of them, Harry was going to visit Teddy - Ron held onto Hermione's elbow loosely, turning to look down at her. Hermione was up on her toes, leaning into his embrace before he could say a word. One gentle and slow kiss melted into the next.

A few minutes later, he'd maneuvered them into her bedroom and put her on the bed as gently as was possible. He moved to her side and pulled away from her soft lips. Hermione immediately leaned forward to capture his mouth again.

"Baby, we shouldn't," he muttered reluctantly. Visions of Hermione needing his help to walk just that morning swam before his eyes.

"I want to," she whispered, her breath dusting across his face. Cinnamon. "Please."

"I don't want to hurt you, 'Mi," he murmured, moving his lips to her jaw. He felt his resolve slipping even as he said it.

"So we'll go slow." She obliterated the rest of his resolution as she kissed his neck.

In a gesture that was becoming too familiar, Ron undressed her and then himself, taking care in removing his gift from Hermione, crawling into bed over her, careful not to put any weight on her side.

"I love you, Ron," she whispered, reaching one hand up to cup his cheek and brushing his lips with her thumb.

"I love you, Hermione," he answered with his words and then with his body. He made love to her slowly, Ron had never been able to distinguish when they made love and when they had sex but he knew that night as he rocked into her gently, carefully, and she gasped and cried out underneath him. As they lay together in each others arms, Ron felt all the terror that'd he'd lose her rush back. Her naked chest pressed against his, her new scars visible in the dim room, her heart beating hard in the aftereffects, it was too much to bear. He felt a hot tear slide out of the corner of his eye. Then another. Another. Another.

"Ron?" Her small hand brushed across his wet eye lashes. "Oh, _Ron._"

"What if I'd lost you?" The words slipped out before he could catch them. He felt her turn onto her back and gather him in her arms against her side, pulling his head to her unscarred shoulder and chest. She wrapped her thin arms around his bare shoulders and he felt the different texture of her engagement ring as her hand brushed across his skin. The white gold contact calmed him and he managed to get his tears and breathing under control. He was about to ask her but she knew before he could form the words.

"I love you." She kissed his hair and kept her cheek pressed against his head. "I love you," she whispered again. His ear rested against her chest. The reliable pattern of her heart beats carried him to an unaided sleep.


	48. Return to Normal and A Gathering

_. . . Chapter 48 _

_. . . Return to Normal and A Gathering . . . _

* * *

After the long break at home under Healer Chatelain's order, Hermione stepped into the atrium of the Ministry for her first day back at work. Ron had insisted that she go on a Friday to ease back into the swing of everything at work. He had been horrified to learn that he and Harry were assigned to a raid that morning and she'd had to calm him down before he'd agreed she could go alone into work that day. She brought her thumb to brush over the underside of her ring, smiling as she looked down at the shiny black tile, avoiding making eye contact with anyone.

Details of the incident - as she'd taken to calling it, kidnapping sounded too dramatic and forced involuntary shudders down her spine - had been published and made known in a series of wildly embellished articles by Rita Skeeter in the _Daily Prophet_. Romance, damsel-in-distress, rescue, an engagement in St. Mungo's, arrests and deaths of the many dangerous men involved were all sung from the pages of the paper. Hermione fumed at the scrutiny but the beetle had at least gotten the facts right, even if they were delivered in an inflammatory way.

Hermione felt eyes on her and worked hard not to look up. She shook her left wrist, feeling the braided bracelet from George slip over the skin under the sleeves of her sweater and robes. When her feet had taken her as far as they could without her visual observation, Hermione lifted her head to push the button to call a lift to her. She immediately found herself face to face with a large man with a pinned Auror badge on his robes. Something about his face behind those glasses was familiar.

"Miss Granger," he greeted, nodding and her and setting his mouth in a half-smile.

She nodded at him and opened her mouth to ask as the lift announced its arrival. He leaned back and gestured for her to precede him.

"Russell," he said as he walked into the lift, extending one hand to her. She shook his hand and had a feeling she should say something else besides 'nice to meet you' but no words materialized to help her.

"Nice to meet you," she intoned politely. He nodded and gripped one of the handles above to keep from stumbling on the lift. Struck by a sudden clarity, Hermione remembered one of the many mutterings of Ron's while he had gently smeared bruise paste across her back on Christmas eve. "Thank you," she met his eyes when he turned to her. "Thank you for getting us there." She knew he understood her vague wordage when his smile bloomed.

"You're welcome," he said kindly, stepping off of the lift when it announced their arrival at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

With a few spare moments to herself to get composed, Hermione took a deep breath and held her chin up resolutely. She strode off of the lift with confidence and met blessedly few people on her walk to her desk. Sitting down and glancing over at the stack of papers on her desk - no one had moved them so no one had read this section of the Order of Merlin legislation since she'd been out - Hermione picked up a quill and red ink and began to edit what she hoped was the last draft of the Order of Merlin Legislation.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her quill hesitate over the first part of the sentence, _'Based on the historic article 18270 (see attached), Goblins have been deemed non threatening since . . .'_

"Hermione?" Odette asked gently, her voice was laced with surprise.

She looked up from the paper and smiled at her co-worker.

"Oh! You're back!" exclaimed the excited brunette, rushing from her desk to stand at Hermione's, bending down to hug her where she still sat in her chair. Hermione patted Odette's arm in greeting. "We were so worried about you and then all the papers," Odette backed away and waved an arm at a stack of _Daily Prophets_ on the floor beside a large column. "Well, Conway kept them for you but I told him you probably didn't want - "

"I don't," she answered quickly. Disapproving brown eyes scuttled over the black and white pile.

"Figured," Odette said, leaning casually against the wood of Hermione's desk. "So back to work then, eh?"

Hermione smiled at the more familiar tone. "Yes. When did Grayson say that we needed to have this draft done?"

"Originally, he'd said next week but since - " she cut herself off and inhaled sharply. Hermione blinked at her. "Well, I'm sure we could take longer."

She used her thumb to flip through the edges of the papers. About two hundred if she had to guess it. "You've already worked through your part?"

"I have," Odette answered, gazing at the stack.

Hermione split the stack in half. "We can finish by next week, definitely," she handed the bottom half away and nodded resolutely. "We'll finish editing on Tuesday and rewrite and submit it next Friday I think. Is that alright?"

Odette pressed the papers to her chest like a shield. "Sounds good."

Near lunch a memo flew into Hermione's field of vision and she snatched it out of the air, hopeful.

_Sandwiches at your desk?_

_Ron_

She smirked at the paper before flipping it over and scratching a hasty response.

_Perfect,_

_Hermione_

She tapped it with her wand. "To Ron Weasley, Department of Magical Law Enforcement." It streaked away from her, back toward the lifts. In a few minutes, the tall form of Ron Weasley came bearing sandwiches. As she crumbled up the napkins and paper, banishing them to the bin, Ron leaned forward.

"What about March?"

She looked at him and tilted her head to consider what he'd said. March. March. March. . . March? Her confusion must've been evident.

"For the wedding," he said softly, to clarify.

"That's two months away," blurted Hermione. Ron shifted in the seat he'd pulled up at her desk beside her. Sensing his discomfort she spoke again. "How's June?"

He instantly looked crestfallen. "I. . . I don't really want to wait that long, Hermione."

That wasn't that long at all. Just five months and they already lived together. How was she supposed to get a wedding planned with her NEWTs coming up?

"What about school, Ron? I think I should at least - "

"OH!" Ron sat back in the chair and nodded. "Right. Damn it! Well when is graduation?" Her heart leapt that he was this ready to marry her, this ready to set a date.

"May eighth, Saturday."

"What about the next weekend?" Ron asked hurriedly. It was her turn to lean back in her chair. She yanked the sleeve of her robes down out of habit. Ron noticed. Bugger.

"Well," she started slowly, considering all relevant outside factors. "Fleur would've had the baby by then, probably, and I'll have finished my NEWTs . . . "

Ron leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and one hand fidgeting with the stubble along his jaw. "So is that a yes?" His eyes were bright as they drove into hers.

She bit her lip and nodded, smiling at his jubilant expression. "That is a yes," she whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was actively watching them. Hermione leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers in a soft kiss that promised many more to come.

With their faces only a few inches apart, Ron whispered, "We'll tell everyone tomorrow when they come over. Mum and dad tonight?" Since the incident had interrupted their holiday plans, the three of them had decided to postpone their Christmas Eve party plans. Their rescheduled plans to have their friends over had been slated for the next evening.

"Sounds like a plan," Hermione whispered back before leaning away under the not-so-subtle gazes of witches and wizards walking by.

The rest of the afternoon, Hermione edited the draft, flying through it with surging energy. Setting a date made the engagement feel more concrete, more real. Grayson stopped by her desk, fawning over himself in a pathetic show of concern. Hermione endured it wordlessly and seriously considered appealing to the head of the house elf division to move her into that territory.

Hours later two sets of feet approached her desk and Hermione looked up into the faces of Ron and Harry. Harry looked resigned and Ron looked visibly nervous, popping the knuckles on one had while he studied her face. She stood so quickly her chair nearly tipped over. "What's hap - "

"Nothing," Ron held his hands up, palms toward her. "Nothing has happened, everyone is fine." Ron and Harry glanced at each other. Harry nodded. "People must've found out about you being here today and there are some reporters out in the atrium. Silvestri warned us."

She'd sort of expected the reporters. No one had photographed her since the incident. Brushing her thumb over the underside of her ring, she nodded grimly at Ron. "We'll just walk out and ignore them. No statements, no nothing?"

They both nodded at her. Side stepping to pick up her bag and waving a quick goodbye to Odette, Hermione walked out of what had been a relatively normal day at work, all things considered. The instant they exited the lift in the atrium, Hermione checked the natural desire to stare down at the tile as she had that morning. She couldn't - wouldn't let herself - be photographed looking beaten. Chin tilted slightly up and with Harry and Ron buffering her on either side, Hermione tried to ignore the flashes of light. The pops of the bulbs made her feel closed in, reminded her of the popping of glass under her feet as she'd run through the debris in their house . . .

A strong hand closed on her upper arm and she let it pull her into the first open fireplace and in a flash of green they were home. On the rug in their house, Hermione studied the clean rug and gripped the collar of her robes, dragging it away from her skin. Ron stepped in front of her and she raised her eyes from the pattern of the rug.

"'Mi?" he asked, watching her hand at her collar. "Alright?" She noticed Harry watching her as well.

"Hm? Yes, fine," she answered, trying to use their practice with Occlumency to push the unease back and away.

"Want to go to the Burrow for dinner tonight?" Ron asked, bringing a hand to undo the buttons of her outer robe. She stopped fidgeting with her collar and smiled at him.

"Yes, I would."

Mrs. Weasley had been delighted with the prospect of having the three of them over and soon enough Hermione was shedding the sweater she'd worn all day for a nicer embroidered ivory one. As she pulled the hem down to lay over the waistband of her jeans her eyes caught on the fading scar that marred her side. Her mind instantly supplied an image from days before of Ron running his fingers over it with his eyes boring into hers as she moved above him in bed. She blushed and finished arranging her shirt.

Shortly, Hermione Flooed with Ron and Harry to the Burrow with a bundle of nerves and excitement alight in her stomach at the announcement of their wedding date, May fifteenth, to the Weasleys and Harry.

* * *

The next night, the first of their guests - Neville - for what Harry was calling 'Christmas: a Sequel' and Ron was calling a 'get-together' arrived with his arm wrapped in a sling and Hannah Abbott.

"Got into a fight with a Cantankerous Cactus," Neville had explained quickly, gesturing to the sling. "Hermione, how are you? We've all read . . . "

Hermione answered the same banal questions with the arrival of Seamus, Dean, Parvarti (Padma was sick), Hagrid - who wept openly as he hugged Hermione.

In a moment of reprieve from discussing the incident, Neville confided that he, being the current Herbology assistant, had gotten to know Hannah Abbott a bit better over the first term.

"'Course as a employee at Hogwarts, I can't . . . We can't," Neville shrugged, "but I've decided to sit my NEWTs after all. Try to become an Auror like my parents."

"Oh Neville! That's a great idea," she exclaimed honestly. The distinctive pop of a cork out of a bottle carried from the kitchen.

Neville nodded toward the kitchen where most of the party-comers were currently talking loudly. "Seamus brought wine."

"Hermione?"

She turned to see Harry peek his face around the edge of the wall, holding a wine glass. "No, thanks, Harry," she answered quickly. Partaking alcohol did not sound like a wise choice, she had only finished her potions the week before and - her stomach squirmed uncomfortably - had to rely on Dreamless Sleep once or twice a week since St. Mungo's. Mixing wine and Dreamless Sleep sounded a lot like mixing muggle medicines, a practice which her parents had always heartily discouraged.

Once everyone that wanted a drink had one and they were all gathered in the now crowded kitchen, Hermione made eye contact with Ron. He recognized her gaze and smiled.

"Everyone," he said, attention turned from private conversations to Ron whose ears she was shocked to find didn't redden. "Well I know you lot know Hermione and I are planning to get married," the room shuffled and everyone smiled at Ron or at her. "Yesterday we decided we're getting married on May 15th." Ron finished and brought an arm around her shoulders.

She fought to control the smile that spilled over on her face and lost. Hagrid burst into tears while the rest of the room offered their love and congratulations amid an avalanche of noise.

After the chorus of best wishes and _finallys' _ had died down and the group had moved into the living room, Hermione sat sandwiched between Ron's leg and the arm of the couch, pressed against Ron from hip to knee. Smaller conversations popped up in a sort of cadence around the room.

"It's good that you two finally realized it," Luna remarked in her lilting, breezy tones.

Hermione caught Ron's eye and the look he typically reserved for Luna. "Realized it?" Curiosity won out and she asked before she could stop herself.

"You're already so bonded," Luna said glancing absently up at an empty spot in the air. "I've known you'd get married since fifth year. It's good that you know now too."

Hermione glanced over at Ron. Ron narrowed his eyes at her in question before turning back to Luna asking, "How'd you know?"

Luna turned to look at her. "Otter river? Ottery St. Catchpole? I would have thought you'd have realized it by now, Hermione. Your Patronus represents Ron." Hermione felt instantly like she had been doused with water. How'd she never realized? Luna's soft voice spoke again before Hermione could catch up. "And Ron, yours is a Jack Russell Terrier. Known for chasing small animals, foxes usually but otters sometimes too. You've been destined for each other. Your Patronus' knew before you did." Luna finished and stood from the chair with an odd jangling of unseen bracelets or charms and breezed out of the room.

Hermione turned to Ron, seeing him with new eyes. _Your Patronus' knew before you did. _Tonks' Patronus had changed when she'd falling in love with Remus. Ron's expression of happy shock matched hers. She opened her mouth to say something sweet and Ron snorted. Frowning, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just remembered Seamus' Patronus is a fox," Ron laughed. "Maybe it's actually me 'nd Seamus that're _'destined for each other'_."

She laughed incredulously. "Sweet, Ronald, truly," sarcasm dripped from her words. She stood up off of the couch and shot an glance - half amused, half exasperated - over her shoulder at Ron who hooked a finger in the back pocket of her jeans and pulled her back down onto the couch cushion she'd just left. "Hey!" exclaimed Hermione lightly as she fell back down to sit beside Ron.

"Joking," Ron said, pulling her head toward his and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Mhm," she hummed with all the sassiness she could muster. "Let me up, I'm going to go find Seamus for you," she glanced at his smirking face and laughed. "Alright, I just wanted to grab a sweet. Come with?" He nodded and put a hand at the small of her back and gently pushed her up off of the couch. She turned back and extended a hand to help lever him up.

Later, as they bade Neville and Hannah goodnight and good luck with the new term starting next week, Neville had paused just before going through the Floo.

"Hermione, if you're taking your NEWTs in April too, would it be too much trouble if - " he started and she nodded quickly.

"Share materials?" she finished. Neville smiled and nodded at her. "Sure, Neville, I can duplicate notes and owl them to you if you need." His face split into a smile.

"Thanks, Hermione," he turned to go back through the Floo. She started to turn away. "And Hermione?" She turned back to face him and saw Ron and Harry both focus their attention on their last guest as well. "I'm glad you're alright."

She smiled at him and watched him disappear in a green flash.

Exhausted, Hermione crawled into bed beside Ron. The cool of the skin of his chest was soothing under her hot palm.

"'night, Ron," she whispered.

Giving her a kiss on her forehead and letting his lips linger there, Ron whispered, "G'night, baby." His breath tingled on her skin and she pushed herself closer against him.

That night, Ron's breathing slowed and deepened so quickly that Hermione found herself surprised and giddy at his ability to sleep without the Dreamless Sleep potion that she knew he relied on too heavily. She followed him into sleep slowly.

_She was running. Footfalls behind her made her stomach twist. Every footstep of hers echoed strangely. Suddenly her momentum slowed and then stopped. They were catching up. Something. Someone.  
An invisible force caught around her shoulders. Twisting, she found herself face to face with too familiar wolfish eyes and she fell screaming. _

Hermione jumped awake gasping. Ron's gentle, strong hands pressed her down into the mattress by her shoulders. It took her a long time to catch her breath. His eyes were skimming over her face as his fingers loosened on her shoulders.

"Sorry, I - " she started only to be interrupted.

"Nightmare," he finished for her, grimacing. No use hiding out what he already knew. She nodded.

"Would you mind if. . . " trailing off, she quickly thought back to the last time she'd taken it. It'd been three nights. Good enough. "Dreamless Sleep?" she asked softly. His expression softened. "I have one vial in my bathroom," she said, gesturing toward her bath.

Ron stood from the bed but instead of going into her bathroom he crossed the floor to her bedroom door.

"No, Ron, my bathroom," she sat up.

"I took it tonight," he said without turning around as he went upstairs to take a vial from their bathroom.

When he came back into her room she was still sitting up in bed. A small squeak of the cork preceded him putting the uncorked glass vial into her hand and gently guiding her to drink it. She let him take the empty vial from her hand and heard the clink of it when he set it down.

"How often, Ron?" she asked in the dark.

He sighed and she felt the bed shift when he got back in. "Four or five times a week," he admitted.

"_Ron!" _she whispered, horrified.

"I know, Hermione, I know. I'm doing the best I can," he said, settling back down into his spot.

She bit her lip and brought her head back to her pillow. "We both need to stop taking it," she muttered, feeling the first wave of drowsiness push at her mind.

"We will," he murmured softly.

"You promise?" she asked. As the potion carried her into a black oblivion she missed his whispered assurance.


	49. Valentine's Day and Puddlemere United

_. . . Chapter 49 _

_. . . Valentine's Day and Puddlemere United . . . _

* * *

The first thing that shot across his mind when he woke was that it was Valentine's day. For a moment, Ron felt a familiar flush of nerves wherever new territory with Hermione was involved but shut it away at the sight of her bare arm on his chest, her engagement ring turned sideways on her finger while she slept.

Hermione had never been like other girls, he almost snorted at the obvious nature of that thought. She did not want a gift, did not need some huge show of affection. He peeked at her sleeping face against his side. Ron would never admit it out loud to her but her acceptance of his proposal was one of the proudest moments of his life. Ron ran his fingers lightly over her shoulder and back. He frowned when he felt the change of texture from smooth to raised lines along her upper back. A fluttering against his chest from the stirring of dark brown eyelashes. Hermione was waking up.

She groaned and turned slightly in his arms. He smirked at her as she stretched languidly under the sheet. A few morning pleasantries, a couple bowls of cereal, and an hour or so later the three of them were entering the Ministry on that dreary Monday morning.

Ron stepped off the lift with a glance over his shoulder as the lift zoomed away with Hermione, wondering what time the flowers he had ordered would get to her. That'd been a tip from Ginny in her most recent letter. He had not, however, ordered roses per Ginny's advice. Instead, he relied on a tidbit of information that he had filed away for safekeeping back in September.

Not long after Ron's bum had hit the chair at Harding's desk, Russell cleared his throat behind them. Ron put his finger in place and turned to look up at the Auror.

"Harding," Russell acknowledged nodding from one to the other, "Weasley. Wondered if you, Potter and Cooper would accompany Weiss Ohr from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He's the - "

"The man in charge of overseeing fair recruiting for - " Ron interrupted and Russell nodded.

"Europe's Quidditch teams," the Auror finished for him and Ron sat up straighter in his seat. "He's going to see the recruiter of Puddlemere United today. Seems the man was cursed, hexed into accepting too many players at their most recent tryouts. Ohr just wanted to bring along a couple others for safety as he questions the man if you're up to it." Ron nodded before Russell had finished speaking. Russell smiled at him and Ron glanced at Harding who nodded and gestured for Ron to go.

"Go on, Weasley, maybe you'll get a good look at a team worth supporting," Harding joked as Ron pushed his chair back. Ron smirked down at him.

"Yeah, maybe," he said back, infusing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could muster when he was this excited.

A few minutes later, Ron, Harry, and Cooper were stepping off of the lift at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Instantly, Ron wished he'd come down here before. Conjured images of Quidditch players zoomed along the walls. Clusters of wizards were grouped together, laughing and tossing a Quaffle back and forth between themselves.

"Merlin's bollocks this looks a right sight more fun that what we've been doing every day," Cooper quipped. Ron was more than a bit inclined to agree. A few minutes of standing and admiring the relaxed office environment and then Weiss Ohr, a stocky built bloke with a growing bald patch on top of his shining head.

"You my Aurors-in-Training then? From Russell?" Ohr asked, shaking their hands in turn. His eyes widened when they met Ron's and then turned owlish when they met Harry's. Introductions out of the way, the group made their way to the Department of Magical Transportation and got a Portkey. Ron tried and failed at not thinking about the last time he'd been in the Department. He chanced a glance at Harry who screwed up his mouth in what was probably supposed to be an encouraging gesture but left him feeling antsy.

Ohr stepped toward the three of them. It was only then that Ron realized that the Auror Department had sent the three of them in-Training on a job without someone - dad - requesting them alone. The lead weight in his stomach since they had stepped off the lift on that level lifted with the realization that the department trusted them. A particularly sad looking old broomstick glowed and twisted the group of them away from the Ministry to stand in the grass field outside the Puddlemere United Quidditch pitch.

"Well?" Ohr looked to the three of them and nodded. "In we go," he said, turning and stomping off quickly toward the pitch.

Ron glanced at the glazed expression on Cooper's face. "Puddlemere United fan?" he asked, making small talk as they trudged over the grass in the cold.

"Yeah," Cooper exhaled. "Puddlemere and the Irish are my two teams." His breath puffed out in tiny fogs. "And you?"

"Cannons fan," Ron snorted after his own admission.

"Really?" Cooper laughed and Ron felt his smile spread.

"Yeah, he's a bit of an optimist where the Cannons are concerned," Harry supplied and sent an elbow poking into Ron's side.

"Have to be, don't I?" Ron responded, eternally grateful when Ohr threw open a door in front of them and warm air rushed out to greet them.

"Alright, I'll pop in the office and speak to Rowan and if I need you three, I'll call, yeah?" Ohr said. Ron nodded and saw Harry and Cooper do the same out of the corner of his eye. After Ohr disappeared behind the door to what he supposed was Rowan's office, Harry leaned against the wall.

"Wonder if the charm was, well if it's like what Hermione did," Harry breathed out, glancing down the hallway.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, leaning against the other side of the hall across from Harry.

"Well, like do friends and families watch the tryouts and can they see when . . . " Harry cut himself off abruptly and colored.

"Yeah, families watch tryouts," Cooper interjected. Ron kept his eyes on Harry's face.

"What do you mean 'like Hermione did', Harry?" Ron's tone was deep, calm, and serious.

Harry's shoulders sank and Ron heard him utter a curse under his breath before he inhaled deeply. "She'll kill me," Harry offered and Ron tilted his head at him, raising his eyebrows. Harry seemed to understand the gesture. "Alright, she . . . she might've Confunded someone during tryouts once," Harry rushed through the sentence so quick that it took Ron a moment to string the words together in his head. Something clicked.

"Sixth?" he asked quickly. Harry nodded.

"_McClaggen_." It was more of a curse than a question but Harry nodded again, looking worried. Ron found himself simultaneously pleased and greatly annoyed. Pleased that Hermione had hexed the git, annoyed that she hadn't thought him good enough on his own.

"If you tell her Ron - " Harry started.

"Harry! Ron!" a vaguely familiar voice called out. Ron turned toward the origin of the voice and found Oliver Wood in full Puddlemere gear striding toward them. Cooper let out a highly unattractive squeak. "Bloody hell, been a while. You two!" Oliver looked from Ron to Harry. "How are you?"

"Good, really good," Harry answered, grinning. "Here about the tryouts this year."

"Right mess, that," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. "Our recruiter, Rowan Kinkade, probably will have his arse thrown out for it," he shrugged. "Or maybe you'll figure something out. Heard you both are working with the Aurors now?"

Ron nodded and let Harry answer. Ron had never been comfortable speaking with Oliver. The six year age difference threw him off too much and he never knew how to act.

" - and Ginny's thinking about going out for a team. She'll finish Hogwarts in May," Harry finished relaying the short summary of recent life with Oliver.

"Weasley?" Oliver asked, glancing at Ron. Ron nodded and glanced at Cooper who was still gaping at Oliver like _he_ had been the one Confunded. "Well, have her owl me with some stats from her most recent matches and I'll pass the information along to a friend: Alluvia Blessy, recruits for the Harpies. She might take a late tryout seeing as she's dating you, Harry," Oliver laughed.

"Thanks, definitely," Harry said, shaking Oliver's hand as the door to Rowan Kinkade's office swung open. Ron opened his mouth to interrogate Harry further about Hermione.

"Ready to take a quick statement?" Ohr poked his head out of the office. They made their quick excuses to Oliver and squeezed into the office to record Rowan Kinkade's statement with Ohr. Ohr did the writing and they signed their names as witnesses. The poor bloke had obviously been Confunded or Imperioed. No one in their right mind would accept nineteen starting players. The entire ordeal went by quickly and soon enough he and Harry and Cooper were back in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Ron," Harding stretched and reached for a folded slip of paper on the desk. "For you. So did you decide to switch allegiance to Puddlemere? Come to your senses?"

Ron laughed. "Not likely."

He glanced down and saw a familiar _'R' _ written on the outside of the paper. Ron unfolded the note that Hermione had penned to him quickly.

_Ronald! _

_The bluebells are beautiful! I came by your desk to thank you in person but Harding said you'd gone out. I love you and these flowers are perfect. My favorite. _

_Love always._

"From your bride, then?" Harding asked light heartedly.

Ron grinned at the happy, hurried tilt of her letters and nodded, letting the Confunding issue drop completely.

"Plans tonight? Valentine's day and all," Harding asked, turning back to the map in front of him that was similar to Greyback's tracking map. He glanced at the name at the top. _Jodie Badon_. Frowning, he looked up to answer Harding.

"Yeah, told her I'd cook but - "

"Oh! Very brave," Harding chuckled. "Told the wife I'd be doing that as well - she's pregnant again, by the way - and I fully intend to place an order at a nearby restaurant and carry it home and dispose of the evidence. After these many years she knows I'm no chef anyway."

Ron's first instinct was to laugh at and then he quickly offered his congratulations on Harding's third child. _"A boy this time,"_ Harding had said proudly. After a bit they settled into their spots, Harding pouring over the map of Jodie Badon - a thief who robbed Muggle stores under cover of night and a well-placed Disillusionment Charm, Harding explained - and Ron commenced picking through the well worn pages of the training guide. Hermione would've been proud at the number of times he had read, reviewed, reread, rereviewed all of the chapters in the book. He knew Harry had done the same, carefully absorbing everything they could to make sure they passed all written and physical exams when the time came in June.

Reading about Defensive Location Spells, Ron's mind wandered over how he hoped the evening would go. His cooking skills paled in comparison to both Hermione's and Harry's and he really did want the night to go well. . . He made up his mind to owl Broussaud's, a restaurant he knew was nearby in London, and pick up a meal that would actually fit the occasion.

That night, Hermione returned home before he could _'dispose of the evidence'_ as Harding had suggested. Ron had tried to lie to Hermione that he'd made it but her glance at the bags in the sink and subsequent grin had him discovered.

Harry's presence in the house on their Valentine's Day dinner was almost unnoticed as Ron looked across the table at Hermione. They hadn't dressed up. She had not taken pains to tame her curls. She had brought her bouquet of bluebells home and placed them on the table. It was perfect.

As he let his spoon rest on his plate after the chocolate mousse, Ron glanced up at her as she licked the spoon. His breath caught, something painful lodged itself in his chest. Suddenly, he couldn't get her to their room quick enough and he stood the instant she finished dessert.

She grinned up at him surprised and Ron saw a thin line of chocolate stuck to her bottom lip. He didn't waste any time seeing after that, leaning down over her and flicking his tongue over the spot. Her eyes fluttered closed and he brought both hands to her upper arms, gently pulling her to her feet. Guiding her carefully to walk backwards toward her room, Ron walked them from the kitchen to her cracked open bedroom door. Her eyes flew open when her bum came into contact with the white wood door and Hermione laughed, breaking her lips from his, when Ron used her body to push the door open the rest of the way.

He kept moving her toward the bed, trying to recapture her lips even as she turned her head.

"Ron, the door," she whispered. "Harry - "

"Shit. Yeah," Ron answered hastily as she sat and he turned to close them in her room. When he turned back to her she was leaned back on her elbows, smiling at him, kicking off her shoes. _Hermione. _Hermione, the girl that he'd been in love with since before he could pin point. . . . His stomach constricted with coiled emotion and desire for her.

He walked over to her quickly, closing the distance between them. He put one knee on the bed and leaned over her, bringing his hands to either side of her face. He pressed his forehead against hers gently and closed his eyes as hers got too close and blurred. "I love you, so much," he breathed out before meeting her lips with a heavy kiss. The soft moan that she hummed against his mouth shot through him and he let go of her face to grab at the hem of her shirt and pull it off of her, breaking their lips apart.

"I love you, Ron," Hermione whispered, arching up off the bed to unfasten her bra. "So much."

Above her, he kneeled up and pulled his sweater and undershirt off together. He threw it to the side and heard a rattling from the bedside table as it hit the shade of her lamp. Ron glanced over quickly to make sure the lamp didn't fall and break. When he looked back down at her she was unbuttoning her jeans, trying to shimmy her hips out of them. He eyed her hungrily and stood off of the bed to pull her jeans and knickers off and finish undressing himself. When he climbed back over her he realized they were still sideways in the bed. He couldn't bring himself to care as she pulled him down by his shoulders and settled himself down over her.

As they melted together, her soft gasps and cries at his ear threatened to undo him completely. Instinctively pulling her leg up, hitching it high on his hip to hit that spot deeper inside her, Ron clenched his teeth, needing to hear her cry out her release. Torturously minutes later, Hermione shook apart under him, arching her chest up and toward him. He stilled and took a moment to kiss her gasping lips and let her eyes refocus before he wrapped both arms around her tightly, sitting back on his knees. She wrapped both legs around his hips and he kept both arms wound around her back. Her nails dragged up his shoulders and he hissed at the feeling of being with her like this. Being with her at all. He leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly against her temple, whispering her name against the damp fly-away curls that framed her face before he lost himself inside her.

They lay together after, Ron above her, pressing his ear against her hammering heart. His scalp tingled from where she gently dragged fingernails across it. It wasn't until the coolness of the room drove them to pull the comforter up that Ron stood from bed and took his now customary half-dose of Dreamless Sleep.

He started awake the next morning with a sudden, white hot terror. How could he have forgotten? Been so oblivious to this being the date of the trial? Horror at what Hermione might be about to relive for the Malfoy family gripped him and he tangled a hand in her curls and brought her head more securely onto his chest to cradle her while she slept those last few minutes.


	50. The Trial and The Memories of Reviewers

_. . . Chapter 50_

_. . . The Trial and The Memories of Reviewers . . . _

* * *

Hermione stepped off of the lift in front of Harry and Ron with her stomach curdling with nerves at seeing the Malfoys and reliving events of the past for their benefit.

Illard Silles, the Malfoy family attorney stepped forward off of the wall where he'd been waiting for her apparently.

"Miss Granger," he said formally, ducking his head some semblance of a bow before taking her hand in greeting. She glanced over his shoulder at the stony face of Lucius Malfoy beside his wife and son and felt a slithering shudder slide down her back.

"Mr. Silles," she murmured, breaking her gaze away from the oldest Malfoy and staring into the tired, yellow eyes of the man before her.

"Inside in about six minutes," Silles said, eyes studying Harry and Ron who stood silently behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know they were probably shooting daggers at the Malfoy family from behind her back. She nodded at the lawyer and dropped her hand to turn around to her two companions.

Ron's worried gaze wasn't on the Malfoys but was glued to her when she turned. She wondered briefly if he had been staring at the back of her head, such was the intensity of the blaze of blue.

"Hermione - " his tone was cautious and she read into it before he could get any farther.

"We've talked about this Ron," she whispered, mindful of the family standing so close. "This is important. This is _right_." His eyes didn't change but he nodded and she stepped back from him. "Thank you both for walking down with me," she said a bit louder. "I will come to your office when I am through for the day." It would only be the one day, Silles had promised, because she was a character witness without much information, just a very significant name for the defense.

Silles had informed her in their meeting about court proceedings which - when the Wizengamot wasn't prosecuting Harry for underage magic unfairly - was strikingly similar to Muggle court. She wondered which came first, modern muggle courts or modern wizarding courts.

"Granger, I - "

Her eyes were instantly drawn to Draco Malfoy, twisting his hands in front of his stomach as the doors to their right swung open. His grey eyes were bright with something she tentatively identified as gratefulness mixed with panic.

"Miss Granger," Silles gently prodded her forward through the open doorway and her nerves flew up and lodged uncomfortably in her chest.

The black wooden door was framed by two tall wizards who failed to turn or otherwise acknowledge her presence as she stepped into the packed courtroom. Witches and wizards lined the dark room, leaning over the dark wood railings and encroaching on the small circle of space that housed the one chair. Silles motioned for her to follow the Malfoys up to sit on the first row to the right of the chair. It was only then that Hermione noticed she was one of three sitting with the Malfoy family. A rather dumpy witch and a dark bearded man sat on Lucius Malfoy's side. Hermione put an intentional chair between herself and Draco Malfoy, Silles would sit there.

The prosecution had already made their case and defense proceedings were to go forward. The court called Silles to put his first witness on the stand and Hermione glanced at the two strangers with the Malfoys.

The dumpy witch, Clementine Riberts, was Draco's childhood nanny, Hermione learned through the questioning. How sad to have your own parents abandon your raising to someone else. Leaning forward in her seat slightly, she cut her eyes back at Draco across the one empty seat. She expected that whatever emotion he'd displayed out in the hall would have evaporated and was therefore stunned to find that Draco was attentively watching his former nanny testify as to the love the Malfoy family members had for each other.

When Silles was done with questioning of the Ms. Riberts, one of the Ministry prosecutors stepped forward. Hermione was horrified at how viciously they went after the woman. Rapid-fire questions, trying to trip her up in a lie, until finally they had her admitting that she had not been closely associated with the Malfoy family since Draco had started Hogwarts and her employment had ended. Hermione had kept her eyes glued on the players in the central circle, trying to drown out the scratching of quills and hushed whispers. The constant background noise made her heart pound and she wiped her hands on the front of her plain black robes.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Draco Malfoy's head turn toward her. Even though she felt his eyes on her, knew he was watching her, she kept her head forward. This was too much, she was too nervous to go meeting his eyes right now.

"Very well, Ms. Riberts, you are free to go subject to recall," the Inquisitor's clear voice rang out. The puffy looking woman slid down out of the chair and glanced up at Silles.

"You may leave, Ms. Riberts, thank you," Silles whispered without emotion. Hermione bit her lip. She had so much ammunition against the Malfoy family . . . what if the prosecution turned that around? Asked her about that under oath? She was only here to tell the truth: that the Malfoy family had changed and deserved a second chance. How would they get that second chance if she messed up? Her stomach sank like she'd eaten too many of Hagrid's rock cakes.

"The defense calls Heston Jenkins," Silles voice broke her from her mounting terror but the weight in her stomach remained.

"And for the court will you please state your name, occupation, and length of time you have known the Malfoy family," Silles started once Jenkins had taken the black chair.

"Heston Arturius Jenkins, Senior member of the Confederation of Wizards: Britain. I have known Lucius Malfoy for many years, mostly through work here at the Ministry," Jenkins stated calmly. Hermione gave a start when he announced his occupation. Over her time in the wizarding world, she had never paid enough attention to wizarding politics what with all the other things on her mind. She tucked a mental note away to read into the International Confederation of Wizards.

Silles continued questioning Jenkins, who slid in references to how much money the Malfoy family had contributed to the Ministry of Magic. She controlled her urge to snort at that. That Malfoy money went towards things like buying out a courtroom for Harry's use of underage magic against Dementors and God only knows what other atrocities. She sat farther back in her chair and admonished her uncharitable attitude. _You cannot go up there with that attitude, _she reprimanded herself, _they will pick up on it. You have to go up there with the same feeling for Lucius that you have for Draco: second chances. _She released a calming breath through her nose, absently flicking her thumb over the inside of her engagement ring.

Perhaps because Jenkins' testimony rang true or perhaps because Jenkins was still an employee of the Ministry of Magic, the prosecution did not see fit to question him as brutally as they had poor Clementine Riberts.

"Next witness?" the Inquisitor's voice cut across the murmur of the courtroom. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"Hermione Granger," Silles said and multiple flashbulbs went off, illuminating even the darkest corners of the courtroom. She stood, running a shaky hand down the wood rail and leaning slightly - imperceptibly, she hoped - onto it for support.

Hermione sat in the ornately carved black chair, training her eyes on Silles and attempting in vain to ignore the fifty or so members of the Wizengamot and the nosy reporters scattered around.

"And for the court will you please state your name, occupation, and length of time you have known the Malfoy family," Silles nodded once at her, encouraging. She took a deep breath and swallowed.

"Hermione Jean Granger. I work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, currently in the Goblin Liaison Division. I've known Draco Malfoy since we began school at Hogwarts."

"And would you say that you two were friends at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Silles asked.

"No," she said simply. No need to elaborate.

"Would you say that you ever had pleasant words while at Hogwarts?" Silles asked, taking a moment to turn and gesture toward Draco Malfoy. He was sitting forward in his seat, his face twisted in a tortured expression.

"No, we did not," she said firmly but softly.

"So you have no reason then, to lie for Draco Malfoy?" Silles asked, finishing establishing a base.

"No, I have no reason to lie."

"Very well, Miss Granger, have you had any experiences with Draco Malfoy outside of Hogwarts?"

"Yes," she supplied. Short answers were the best, then Silles could direct her further.

"Please describe any that you deem relevant," Silles said, walking a few steps away from her.

She cleared her throat and looked up at the Inquisitor. "Well last year, many of you know that . . . " she sounded stuffy, pompous, and hated it. "That Harry, Ron and I weren't at Hogwarts - "

"Miss Granger? Would it be fair to say that you three were executing a mission while in hiding?" Silles supplied helpfully.

"Yes," she latched onto his explanation gratefully. He nodded at her, pursing his lips for her to continue. "And at one point over the last year we were captured by Snatchers."

The murmur in the courtroom grew, swelled and then fell back again to a hush. Something about it reminded her of the sounds of the ocean at Shell Cottage. She pulled her sleeve further down her arm and continued.

"The Snatchers realized that they had me and that I was known to be travelling with Harry so they decided to take us to Malfoy Manor instead of bringing us here, to the Ministry," she said the last phrase with more than a little relish. Reminding them of what fickle friends they were to them last year was sure to win some points at least.

"And what happened at my clients' Manor?" Silles asked.

Her arm sudden itched beyond ignoring. Hermione jerked her sleeve and turned George's bracelet on her wrist. A wayward glance brought her eyes to Draco Malfoys unexpectedly. His eyes flitted to her sleeve. She clenched both fists and quit messing with those scars.

"Well, we were pulled into the Manor by the Snatchers and even though he knew that it was us, Draco Malfoy lied to. . . to them that it was us. He didn't want us captured," she said, hoping that she was right and hoping that her interpretation hadn't been too far off.

"And how did they realize that it was you?" Silles prompted.

The name burned her mouth. "Bellatrix Lestrange recognized me and then Ron and Harry." The whispers amplified in the courtroom. In a breathless instant, she realized that only the Reviewers, the Malfoys, Ron and Harry knew what had gone on there. The public just knew about the incident in December, they didn't know about this. This was new.

"Then what?"

"We had gotten the sword of Gryffindor at one point. Professor Snape had brought it for us to the Forest of Dean. Bellatrix Lestrange unknowingly had a copy of the sword in her vault at Gringotts and thought we'd broken in and stolen something from her vault at Gringotts," Hermione finished. She felt like she was talking too fast, nerves distorted her sense of phrasing.

"Yes, we all know how that turned out," Silles remarked lightly and drew small splashes of laughter from the people assembled in the courtroom. Relaxing slightly in the lighter atmosphere, Hermione organized her thoughts. They - she and Silles - had agreed not to show the inflammatory memory of the torture but had decided to have her describe it as a strategy. It was risky, she knew, to mention it at all when the prosecution most likely knew of the Reviewers and the possible existence of any memories related to the previous year. She straightened her shoulders and tried to keep her face blank and calm for the court. "What next, Miss Granger?"

"Well, Bellatrix - " It felt awful calling her by her first name but there were too many Lestranges to call her by her last name without clarification. " - said that she'd question me and Harry and Ron were held in the cellar while she asked me about the sword."

"And how did Bellatrix Lestrange question you?" Silles asked calmly.

"She . . . She used the Cruciatus on me," she hurried through the sentence while the courtroom reacted, pulling her sleeve down again. She didn't have to look up to know that Draco's attention was glued to her arm again.

"And were my clients in the room?" Silles asked.

"Yes," her heart beat frantically.

"And how did they seem? Participatory? Reluctant?"

"Reluctant," she answered firmly. "Draco especially," she added, remembering his face as she'd looked up at him about her parents.

"And after the three of you left the Manor that day, did you have any more communication with the Malfoy family before this trial?" Silles said, effectively ending the line of questioning about her torture by Narcissa's sister.

"Yes, at the Final Battle," she answered. She hated that name: _Final Battle_. It was too dramatic a term for her taste and too _final_. There were still a few Death Eaters that had gone underground. The term left a bad taste in her mouth.

"And what happened there?" Silles asked, gently.

"Malfoy, Draco, had found the three of us with Crabbe and Goyle," she answered, slightly relieved that this was one of the last questions Silles had told her that he would ask her before the prosecution had their turn. "And Crabbe tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on Harry and the Killing Curse on me and both times, Draco Malfoy told him to stop."

"And did Draco Malfoy raise his wand to you at all during this exchange?"

"No, he tried to get Crabbe and Goyle not to either," she answered.

"And did the Malfoy family contact you at a time after that?" Silles asked.

"Yes, they sent me a letter."

"And what did the letter say?" Silles prompted. Last question, thank Merlin.

"That they were sorry that they couldn't do more for us while we had been at Malfoy Manor and that they had taken it upon themselves to seek out the . . . my parents who had been killed by Crabbe, senior, and buried them," she answered, feeling tears spring into her eyes. She'd almost said 'the bodies'. Blinking rapidly, the tears thankfully dried before falling and embarrassing her in the courtroom.

"Alright, thank you, Miss Granger," Silles said, a flood of relief accompanied his words. "Inquisitor?"

"Prosecution's response?" Keeland turned to the wizard who had demolished Riberts on the stand.

"Miss Granger," he greeted and then gestured toward himself, "Cole Meador." She nodded once at him. "So, you said that you _weren't_ friends at Hogwarts?" the wizard moved forward toward her.

"No, we weren't," she answered cautiously.

"And you said you _never_ exchanged kind words?"

"Not that I can recall." The hairs on the back of her neck stood up with an alert tension.

"So then, is the court to assume that you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart? That these aren't your friends and are, in fact, the same people that helped torture information from you last year and you just help them because you're good?"

"Yes - "

"Or could it be that you are receiving something in exchange? The Malfoy family isn't exactly known for treating this court as an impartial judge - "

"OBJECTION!" Silles stood from his seat beside Draco Malfoy. "He's implying that - "

"Sustained. I know very well what he is implying, Mr. Silles. Mr. Meador will you please rephrase the question?" Keeland said, his voice dripping with a weariness that probably came from years of overseeing tense trials.

"Certainly," Mr. Meador answered, suddenly submissive. "Miss Granger, are you receiving anything in exchange for your testimony today?"

"No," she ground out.

"Fine," he bit back tersely. "Well, you said that the Snatchers took you to Malfoy Manor. Why do you think that was?"

"I can't speak for the Snatchers, sir," she responded, feeling very much like she was the one on trial.

"Do you think, perhaps, that they took you to Malfoy Manor because the Malfoy family supported the Dark Lord?"

The way he phrased the question trapped her into responding in the affirmative. "Yes, but - "

"And when you say that _'Draco Malfoy lied to them'_ about it being you three at the Manor, who is 'them'?"

"The . . ." He'd trapped her again. She clenched her jaws shut and tried to think of a way around his questioning.

Scanning the members of the Wizengamot for a distraction, her eyes suddenly met the wide and familiar eyes of Lenora Kirkly. Lenora's mouth gaped open and her eyes were narrowed. Hermione stiffened. Lenora had seen the torture. A tingling sensation, not unlike the spread of a Disillusionment Charm, slid down her from her curls to her stomach. Had she written how Draco had been reluctant? Or had she taken notes from their Reviews how rabid Lucius had seemed, how detached Narcissa had been. . .

"Inquisitor, she's being unresponsive," Meador turned to address the Wizengamot. She jumped.

"Miss Granger, please answer the question," the Inquisitor prompted.

"The people I was referring to were the other people in the room," she answered quietly.

"'The other people in the room' . . . I believe Mr. Silles has already established that the other people in the room included his clients, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, did he not?"

She felt her face flame up in anger at the lawyer: the clearly intelligent, frustrating lawyer.

"Yes," she answered reluctantly.

"So is it fair, Miss Granger, to say that while Draco Malfoy might have tried to protect your identity that Lucius Malfoy and Narcisssa Malfoy did _not _try to aid you in any way while you were tortured under the Cruciatus Curse in their home?"

"Yes, but - "

"No further questions," Meador said quickly, almost cutting off her response, to keep her from finishing her thought. She felt her shoulders slum in defeat.

"Defense? Your response?" the monotone voice of Hesley Keeland droned.

As she watched, Silles rose from his seat beside Lucius Malfoy who had turned his full attention onto her. The patriarch had his chin raised at her but instead of it seeming like a standard gesture of Malfoy distain she read appraisal there. Not trust, admiration, respect, gratefulness but there was consideration. She dipped her head at him. Consideration as a human instead of judgment for her blood was something she would take with grace from him.

"Miss Granger?"

She flicked her gaze from the Malfoys to Silles, widening her eyes and raising her eyebrows in recognition.

"Miss Granger, is there anything else about the character of the Malfoy family that you believe the court should take into consideration?"

This part. She remembered this part, they'd practiced.

"Yes," she said confidently.

"And could you please enumerate any relevant items related to the Malfoys for this court?" Silles turned his back to her and waved a hand over the crowd of assembled Wizengamot representatives.

Her heart raced ahead at the open line of questioning. She coughed once, twice, swallowed and desperately wished she had water.

"I can't give testimony on it directly but I know that Harry Potter has submitted memories to the Ministry of Magic that will testify to the changed character of the Malfoy family," Hermione raised her voice as she spoke each phrase. At the name 'Harry Potter' the Wizengamot had erupted into a chorus of whispers and outrage.

Lenora leaned forward in her chair and visibly clenched and unclenched her jaw. She fixed Hermione in her gaze and Hermione felt her own expression melt into one of pleading desperation. Lenora brought a hand to her mouth before composing herself.

"Inquisitor Keeland," Lenora's voice spoke up over the dull roar. "As a member of the committee to which Miss Granger refers, I can access these memories and bring them for the court's review."

Hermione watched the Inquisitor and Wizengamot throw options back and forth until it was decided that Harry's memories pertaining to the Malfoy family on the day of the Final Battle would be used. Knowing that Harry had agreed she could do this didn't make it feel any more appropriate. She wished that Harry had agreed to testify, this felt like she was trampling where she didn't belong.

Order was slow to return to the courtroom. Once it had quieted, Inquisitor Keeland peered over the podium at her.

"Miss Granger, if that is all that you have for this court, then the court invites you to step down," Keeland turned to Silles before she could slide all the way out of her chair. "Subject to recall?"

She paused with her bum half-on and half-off the seat. Silles nodded to the High Inquisitor.

"Very well, Miss Granger, you are free to go subject to recall," the Inquisitor looked over her again. "You're dismissed," he said gently and she stood and walked on shaky legs out of the courtroom, not glancing back at the Malfoys. Silles patted her upper arm as she walked by.

"Good job, thank you," he whispered. The words were light, barely reaching her ear.

She walked out into the hallway and felt the temperature drop. Too many bodies in one confined space. Checking her watch as she walked, she headed back toward the lift to see Ron and Harry.

Once she reached the floor, she felt a few heads turn to watch her walk by. She tried, and failed, to not be self-conscious.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice caught her on the way to Ron's desk and she halted. Harry scrambled to stand up. "How'd it go?"

How had it gone?

"It went alright, I guess," she answered honestly. "Wish I could predict more how the Wizengamot received it all, you know?"

He nodded and waved a hand towards Ron's desk. "He's out," he said simply. "Training excercise, we think. A few other Aurors-in-Training were around this morning, more than usual."

She frowned at him. "Why aren't you - "

"With them? I think they're starting to split me and Ron up because we're together so much. I think some of the other guys in training must've complained that we work too closely together," Harry finished with a smirk.

"Well that's understandable, I suppose," she sighed, hating the fact that they wouldn't be together to watch out for each other.

"So was it bad then?" Harry asked, suddenly serious. "Going back and reliving all of that?"

"It wasn't like going back, you know," she struggled to explain. "It was more trying to convey what'd happened."

"But I mean, in front of them and talking about being back there and . . . " Harry broke off and Hermione realized Ron had coached him as to what questions to ask. Harry was doing a lousy job of it.

She thought of something that her mum had said once and she'd never forgotten. "A snake doesn't slither back into its skin after it sheds it," she said quickly. "Just like we're not going back there. Ever." Harry's face lit with recognition.

"So it wasn't like going back? You're ok?" Harry clarified.

"Yes, I'm fine," she looked by his shoulder to his cluttered desk. Andromeda's familiar scrawl across a page drew her eye. "Teddy?"

"Right, yeah. Ted's heart again, they're checking into St. Mungo's as soon as we get Teddy," Harry answered her unspoken question. "Ron said he'd be late tonight, judging from what Harding had told him so will you, at five, Apparate to Andromeda's with me for Teddy and we'll go home?" He and Ron hadn't let her alone any more than they had to for traveling.

"Sure, Harry," she answered, turning on her heel. "I'll meet you here at five." As she walked and ignored stares again, she realized Teddy's first birthday was fast approaching. April first. She smirked to herself at his birthday on April Fool's Day. A birth date that he shared with George, she realized as she leaned forward and pushed the lift button. Something about that made a certain kind of sense in the world.

* * *

That night when Ron walked in their back door, he had to catch the door before it slammed and ruined the scene before him. Hermione was curled up against the arm of the couch. Leaning slightly, Ron saw Harry and Teddy asleep on a blanket on the rug, the coffee table was cast aside. Teddy had fallen asleep with his hair matching Hermione's hair color. The sight of wispy brown curls on Teddy's small head made the corners of Ron's mouth twitch upwards. One glance at Hermione's blank, peaceful face was enough to make him decide against disturbing her - and their - sleep. He grabbed the comforter from her room and scooted between Teddy and the edge of the couch. The four of them slept in the living room for the rest of the night.


	51. A Birthday and an Ending

_. . . Chapter 51_

_. . . A Birthday and an Ending . . . _

* * *

The rest of February snuck by with a frigid whisper and gave way to the March rains. The first thing that Ron noticed when he woke was that there was no pitter-patter of rain against their bedroom window. The second was that his arm was almost completely numb from the weight of one particular brunette. The fact that he had slept the entire night without the aid of Dreamless Sleep was the third.

A few minutes of listening to Hermione's light breathing later, the charm that stirred them awake each day broke the peaceful quiet of the room. Suddenly, with the blaring noise of the alarm, he realized in his flurry of realizations, he had left off his own birthday.

Hermione went from completely asleep to sitting up above him in the bed. Her hair was wild in the morning light.

"Ron!" she rasped, her throat dry from sleep. "Happy birthday!"

In an instant the blood rushed back into his arm. Pinpricks of painful tingling lit up his splinch-scarred arm at the same time that a curtain of brown hair hit him in the face. Hermione's embrace was warm and giddy.

"Thank you," he said back, gently pushing her hair out of his face to reveal her sleepy smile.

"Present now or later?" she chirped and leaned over him to kiss him briefly.

Harry's footsteps were loud on the wood floor outside their bedroom door. Already wearing boots.

"Later, I think," he said reluctantly, sitting up.

"Ok," she sat up too and Ron saw her ring catch the light as she ran her fingers through her curls. His heart caught slightly. As if she ever had to give him a present. As if she wasn't already the best thing that'd ever happened to him. "Well I'm going to get ready, so - " she leaned up and kissed his jaw line below his ear. "- if you will toast me a couple pieces of bread. . . "

She tossed him a look over her shoulder as she went into the bathroom and he smirked after her. Bossy even on his birthday. He went grinning into the kitchen.

* * *

Standing from Harding's desk, after helping Harding come up with a strategy for the arrest of the trollish thief, Jodie Badon, Ron stretched and pushed his chair back in. Badon, it seemed, had had much success robbing Muggle stores of food and decided to push his luck and attempt to exchange the Muggle money at Gringotts where he was promptly detained by the Goblins there. Ron and Harding were to arrest Badon and go through his home and confiscate any stolen goods.

"Ready?" Harding walked quickly back into view. Ron nodded at him, wordlessly checking to make sure that his wand was safely in the holster Hermione had given him.

A few minutes later, the two of them were walking through Diagon Alley in the green haze that so frequently preceded violent spring storms. The familiar popping of fireworks and loud music got thick in the air as they walked by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Harding looked over at the display in the window - _Cat-a-tonic Potion: Guaranteed to tame the tiger in your kitten_ - and laughed loudly.

"I went in there for a laugh once last year and didn't realize how many useful things there are in there," Harding commented as they walked by the violently purple brick building. "I think the Department of Magical Law enforcement actually stocks the Shield Cloaks and Shield Hats that they make there."

Ron glanced up at the arm that raised and lowered the hat over the rabbit and smiled. "Yeah, St. Mungo's uses some too," he said, feeling himself swell with more than a little pride for George and Fred and the business they had created, the memories of the two of them . . .

Gringotts loomed large in front of him when he turned away from the shop. Ron cracked the fingers on his right hand with his thumb. Once inside, Harding led him to a tiny holding cell that he hadn't known existed previously.

A chubby man - no older than twenty-five, surely - sat in the center of the cell. He sprung gracelessly to his feet when he saw Harding and Ron.

"Lawyer!" he barked out. "I want a lawyer!"

"You'll get a lawyer," Harding said, bracingly, waving forward a Goblin that held a set of keys. "When you get to Azkaban to await trial - "

"The Dementors!" Badon shouted, eyes wild. "I can't be around those - "

"Calm down," Harding commanded and the thief quieted and for a moment the only sound was the click of the opening lock on the cell. "There haven't been Dementors at Azkaban since last year." There was a soft edge to his normally matter of fact voice. Ron saw the wild look in their newest prisoner's eyes dissipate. Badon nodded mutely and stepped for placidly to be taken by Side-Along by Harding.

"Ron?" Harding nudged him with his elbow and Ron gripped his upper arm and the three spun away to the safe point where they quickly relinquished Badon to the guards and left again. Ron let himself briefly wonder who had escorted Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy into Azkaban. Hermione's testimony alone probably saved Draco Malfoy - the git - from Azkaban but he was to remain monitored by the Ministry for the next two years. Ron had been worried she'd be upset but she'd just read the article calmly and said simply, _'I did everything I could do for them, what's done is done'_.

An hour or so later found Harding and Ron combing through Badon's house for evidence of crimes or other criminals. Other than the miscellaneous stolen goods they, thankfully, found evidence of nothing and no one else.

With the uneventful search, boring field report, and normal day in the office behind him, Ron stood from his desk, stretching before making his way to Harry's desk. Harry was bent over a table of information. Ron leaned over his shoulder and could tell Harry knew he was there when he slid the paper over for Ron to read.

"Security measures for people Apparating in and out of Hogwarts for the upcoming graduation," Harry explained without turning. "People are scared that any remaining . . . any of them will attack so near the anniversary of it all." Harry's voice was flat but Ron read the tension underneath.

"What're they doing for it?" he asked, scanning the paper and finding names of most of the Aurors and locations and times.

"Rotating schedule of Aurors in positions in and around the castle," Harry explained. "I'm off duty, you as well. Parnell knew about Ginny and Hermione and our friends so we're excused from - "

"From working? They didn't have to do that," Ron said but even as he said it he was glad that he'd be able to watch Hermione cross that platform and have her NEWTs announced. A solid month of her laying in the floor with her books spread about, of her coming to bed later and later, of her turning the furniture into animated objects and Hermione was that much closer to sitting for her NEWTs in mid-April.

"No, I know, but Parnell was the one in charge of assignments so there you go," Harry said, sliding the paper back over in front of himself. "I was just looking over where everyone would be," he added quietly. Ron nodded silently. Harry pushed both hands off of his desk and stood.

"Ready?" he asked, stepping back.

"Yeah, ready," Harry turned and smiled at him. "Birthday dinner at the Burrow, then?"

Ron grinned and nodded as they started walking.

"Well, I don't know what Hermione got you but I got you something," Harry said, clapping an arm around Ron's back.

"Yeah, what's that, then?" he laughed and the two of them turned the corner to exit the corridor and move toward the lifts.

"Hermione's supposed to be putting it out at home so you're about to see," Harry explained quickly. Ron felt a wave of annoyance at Harry's cheeky words. Waiting to find something out, gifts, facts, anything, always made his nerves stand on edge.

Inside their Floo he was instantly met with a small body flinging itself at him and brown hair that snagged on his facial hair.

A muffled "Happy birthday" was shrieked into the fabric of his outer robes before he could wrap his arms around Hermione. He took a step back when he felt her small hands on his chest and saw Harry shedding his robes on the chair beside them.

"Present," Hermione announced, rushing from the room before he could mutter a response. She reemerged holding something behind her back. "I couldn't wrap it," she explained. "Didn't want to wrinkle it." She brought what was hidden behind her back out in front of her chest.

_Chudley Cannons 1991-1992 _and the signatures of the starting seven and names of several reserve players stared back at him. The maroon, orange, and moving black and white players clashed wonderfully in front of him.

"_Hermione_," he breathed, reaching out to gently take it from her. "It's - "

"It's, sorry it's a little faded on this corner but it was hard to find one and it's from the year we met," she said, nervous as he took the poster from her hands. "But if you don't - "

"No! It's perfect," he said and ran his thumb over Galvin Gudgeon's name. His first year in the league. He looked up at Hermione where she was practically bouncing on her toes, bobbing with nerves. "Hermione, I love it!" He announced, holding the poster carefully in one hand and reaching for her with his other. "Where'd you get it?"

"Secret," she grinned up at him. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Fine, I got some help from Ginny tracking it down."

He turned his smirk from her to the poster and studied the poster. Harry's craning caught his attention so he turned the poster to show it to him.

The fireplace suddenly blazed to life and all three of them jumped away from it, pulling three wands out instantaneously.

"Ron?" Dad's head popped through the hearth.

"Bloody hell, dad, you scared us all to death," he gasped out as his heart rate slowed down closer to normal.

"Sorry. Hey, your mum seems to think that you three should come over here now," dad said, rolling his eyes as he spoke.

"But we agreed on seven," he glanced back at Hermione and reevaluated the time between work and dinner that he thought he'd be spending with Hermione.

"I know," dad said, shrugging. "Your mother, you know. See you three at the Burrow as soon as you can." And with that he left them.

Ron sighed heavily and Harry prodded him with a bony finger.

"My gift to you and then we'll go," Harry poked at him until he rounded the back of the couch where his feet landed on a woven tapestry rug with a bundle of ivy at the center.

* * *

The month of slowly warming weather and wedding planning melted by, leaving the three of them rushing down the sterilized halls of St. Mungo's. A familiar wail from somewhere nearby oriented them to Teddy Lupin's location. A flimsy looking, stick of a woman held Teddy by his tiny armpits in the air as far in front of her as possible, looking decidedly lost. Ron stepped forward and the moron of a medi-witch gladly handed him the baby.

Glad to have Teddy in his hands but infuriated, Ron snapped at the witch. "Oi! I could've been any bloke off the street! You make it a habit to pass off babies to strangers?" he blurted, adjusting Teddy against his chest.

Affronted, the medi-witch opened her mouth to form what he was sure would be an inadequate response. A sudden thundering of footsteps down the hall tore him away from his anger with the woman.

"Please," Harry got his bearing on the situation before Ron or Hermione. "Please, we're here for Ted Tonks - "

"This way," her face fell and she set off at a brisk pace down the corridor. Ron felt his heart drop where Teddy's weight pressed. Ted had consistently gotten sicker and sicker, taking longer each time to recover. "He's not doing well, we've tried to prepare Andromeda," Ron over heard the witch tell Harry as they walked. Too soon, too early for a wizard to die a natural death. A natural death . . .

He didn't realize Hermione had stopped walking until he lurched to a stop against Hermione outstretched arm.

"Hermione," he breathed, looking down at her upturned face. Tears were gathering along her lower lashes. "That is it, Hermione," he whispered. Her face went from growing sadness to clear confusion.

"Ron, what - ?"

"The Elder Wand, 'Mi!" he said under his breath. "If Ted dies a natural death then the power of the wand dies with him."

"Ron, that's. . ." she paused. "Well, that's totally brilliant. Morbid but brilliant," she whispered, glancing toward the open door where Harry waited on them. Ron followed her gaze.

"We'll have to ask Harry," he whispered, catching Harry's eye and moving toward the room that held Ted and Andromeda.

"I'd ask Ted if he's talking, personally," Hermione breathed, stepping inside before him and Teddy. Ted's weak cough at their entrance made his heart clench up and he chanced a glance at Hermione who shifted from one foot to the other. For all their experience with death, it was never a long, natural affair. There was always a degree of adrenaline to dull the ache and a swiftness that wouldn't come today.

Hermione was brilliant, asking Ted how he was doing, asking after Andromeda, propping Ted up on his pillows, taking Teddy from the room when he got fussy. Then finally, after a long lull in conversation, Hermione stood with a sleeping Teddy and asked Andromeda to go with her for tea in the lobby of the hospital.

All the blood drained from his body now that the task was at hand.

"Ted?" Ron stood from the chair he'd occupied and was relieved that the wizard turned his head to look up at him.

"Hm?" the withered man grunted at them.

"You remember when Harry talked about the Elder Wand in the papers?" Ron said gently, hoping he remembered.

"Ron, what are you - "

"Hang on, Harry," Ron swatted down Harry's question as Ted nodded that he had heard about the Elder Wand.

"Ted, the wand, I'm the master of it and - " Ron broke off, unsure of how to continue.

"An' it dies with its master," Ted wheezed out and Ron felt relief flood his senses.

"Yes," Ron breathed as Harry gasped with realization of where Ron was going. "I'm the master of the wand." No surprise registered on Ted's face, just a grim nod. "I thought if. . . if you would disarm me and - " He felt horrible saying it, like the words would make it happen.

"Give me," Ted said roughly, "my wand."

Ron saw Harry lunge for the nightstand and produce Ted's almost white wand. Brittle fingers gripped the wand and Ted made to sit up more in bed, straining. Harry helped the frail man sit up more in bed. Ron slipped his wand out of the holster and into his palm that was hot with nervous sweat.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione and Andromeda darken the doorway. He couldn't worry about it now, the white wand was pointed directly at his chest.

"_Expelliarmus,_" Ted said in the most firm voice Ron had heard him use in months. The chestnut wand that formerly belonged to Peter Pettigrew flew from Ron's fingers and Ron felt exposed, relieved, and like it was _finished_ all at once.

"What the - " Andromeda's voice cut through the tension that had settled in over the room. Ron saw Hermione lay a gentle hand on Andromeda's arm that bought Harry and Ron enough time to explain.

A few hours later, Ted's condition had deteriorated further, necessitating Ron's, Hermione's and Harry's departure with Teddy to leave Ted in Andromeda's watchful care. Ron and Harry shook Ted's limp hand, thanking him and promising to take care of Teddy and Andromeda in turn before sliding out into the hallway.

Hermione wiped at her eyes furiously with one hand, cuddling Teddy against her neck and shoulder with the other. As they stepped out of the Floo at their house, Ron chanced a glance at his watch. Five after midnight. Today was George and Fred's birthday. And Teddy's. . .

"It's Teddy's first birthday," Ron said, his throat suddenly dry and scratchy.

Hermione gasped.

"It is!" Harry said, exhaustion muted his exclamation as he patted Teddy's head.

The three of them moved in unison to put Teddy into his pajamas, get him into the crib that they'd finally moved into Ron's never-used room, and lull him to sleep. Teddy feel asleep on his first birthday with six eyes looking down at him in collective love and concern.


	52. A Ceremony and A Proposal

_. . . Chapter 52 _

_. . . A Ceremony and A Proposal . . . _

* * *

Standing at the gates of Hogwarts with most of his family - Bill, Fleur and little Victoire weren't in attendance - Ron glanced up at the restored facade of the school. Almost a year to the day after _that_ day, they were back to watch Hermione and Ginny and a handful of other close friends accept their certificates and graduate.

He glanced over at Hermione who had walked ahead with Ginny. They'd both pulled on their traditional witches' hats. He smirked at Hermione's curls bursting out from under the black fabric as she walked beside his sister.

Mum already had a handkerchief blotting at the corners of her eyes. Ron almost cringed when he thought ahead to Harry's planned proposal after dinner back at the Burrow. The tears would be practically unstoppable. Mum had been a mess since they'd all waited in the hallway of St. Mungo's for Fleur to deliver Victoire. Fleur's nearly constant spouting of angry French words had been at once hilarious and terrifying while they all waited for Bill's short updates. Dad had made the astute statement, _"And the cycle begins again," _and mum hadn't stopped crying since.

Ron thought back to Victoire's strawberry blond hair. Ron and Hermione had both laughed. They were both wrong or both right about the baby's hair color, depending on how you looked at it. Up ahead, Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and two things tugged at his heart: her engagement ring and her finger tracing the curve of her ear fleetingly. When Hermione held Victoire, she'd traced her finger over the baby's tiny ear reverently. Then the night Victoire had been born, Hermione was almost asleep as he lay his head on her bare stomach and she ran a hand through his hair.

_"'Mi?" _

_"Hm?" _

_"Do you think you'll want a baby sometime soon?"_

_"Maybe, why?"_

_"Just wondered," he answered. "She was beautiful."_

_"Mm, she was," Hermione agreed._

_"Yeah," Ron said dreamily. "Goodnight, Hermione," he had whispered, lifting himself off of her and kissing her softly on the cheek before settling in on the mattress beside her. _

It was almost too much to know that one Saturday Victoire was born, the next Hermione and Ginny were graduating, and the next he would be marrying Hermione in the Burrow's orchard.

"It feels different here," Harry whispered as they neared the half full set of seats on Hogwarts' lawn, his voice almost stolen by the wind.

"Yeah," he agreed, glancing back up at the castle behind them. "Looks the same though."

Harry hummed his agreement. It was too weird being back.

"It's weird being back here," Harry breathed and Ron laughed once grimly.

"I know what you mean, mate," said Ron. "I - "

"Ron! Harry!" Hermione's voice stunned them out of their mental wanderings and they both turned to face her. Her formal cream-colored graduation robes from Ginny billowed around her, almost Snapeish in the wind. Something about seeing her walking up the aisle of seats toward them reminded him of that picture on the front of the _Daily Prophet _a year ago. How different she looked now: no cut across the smooth skin of her face, flushed and healthy cheeks, her figure was perfect, healthy and fuller than it had been then too.

"Did you hear me, Ron?" Hermione's voice cut through his mental fog.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, feeling sheepish.

"I'm to go sit with the other graduates so I'll meet back with you after, yeah?" she asked quickly, glancing over her shoulder where Ron could see Luna standing patiently, her blonde hair blowing in the wind as she looked around absently.

"Yeah, yeah," he whispered and smiled, wanting to embrace her but she was already stepping backwards.

Minutes later, the Weasleys all sat in two rows of the same chairs from Dumbledore's funeral and for the horrible day of the mass funerals. The chairs were quickly filled and the crowd grew hushed with the procession of the Hogwarts staff processing down the aisle toward the stage where he knew Hermione and the other graduates sat to the side. He crossed his fingers for her and made a quick wish that her NEWTs scores were what she hoped for. Hogwarts had the terrifying tradition of reading NEWTs of the graduating class as the student made their way across the stage.

Hagrid's face was immediately visible over the heads of the other teachers. Filch processed with an awkward gait that had Harry and Ron both struggling not to laugh and ruin the solemn moment. How was it that whenever you had to do something serious, everything was that much more laugh-worthy? McGonagall caught his eye as he bit the inside of his lip and her all too familiar reprimanding glare had him sucking in a breath and turning his eyes back toward the stage and away from Filch.

As the professors all took their seats in a line across the stage - he noticed with a smirk how Hagrid had a much larger and much more structurally enhanced chair - the feeling of being watched tingled up his spine and he cut his eyes left and right. Finding nothing he turned his head over his shoulder and saw Russell and Harding standing at the back of the crowd. Russell noticed his gaze and dipped his head once at him and Ron did the same, smiling at the Auror he still credited with the quick action that saved Hermione's life in December.

McGonagall's voice as she performed the _Sonorus_ spell caused him to turn in his seat.

"Good afternoon, family, friends, and esteemed guests," McGonagall's accent caught on the words in a way that lulled him into a particularly welcome comfort zone. "And welcome to the certificate ceremony of the one thousand, nine-hundred, and ninetieth class of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

A smattering of applause rained out at McGonagall's words and the triumphant tone she had adopted with the year of the class.

"It is poignant to remember that now, on this day we graduate many students whose lives and schooling were interrupted by the dark events of last year. Let us take a moment of silence in remembrance of those many brave souls we lost here last year," McGonagall's strong voice quieted and it seemed that the wind heard her words. All was silent.

Ron looked down at his khaki trousers in the heavy silence. Allowing himself a brief and rare acknowledgement of the pain of losing his brother last year. A burning in his throat made him shutter the rarely revisited flow of grief and he raised his head to see most of the staff bowing their heads in remembrance. He tangled his fingers together but resisted the familiar urge to pop his fingers in the silence.

McGonagall solemnly raised her weathered face and spoke again, "In so many ways, we are a broken vase. We can be made whole again, but you'll always see the crack, our scar. It is the greatest hope of our world to slowly heal the fracture. And we begin by putting the youth of our world first. Now for this year's graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The line of staff members stood from their seats and formed an organized - albeit hodgepodged appearing - line. McGonagall unfurled a scroll and stepped forward and began reading the numerous names of the graduating students. Students from his own year and the year below walked solemnly across the stage, shaking the hands of each of their their professors as they walked across the stage. Justin Finch-Fletchley had paused with Professor Sprout and Ron watched the chubby witch wipe a perpetually dirty finger across her lashes. A few names later and McGonagall called her name, "Hermione Jean Granger."

Hermione walked up the steps to the side of the stage. McGonagall read out her NEWTs scores. Perfect, of course. He swelled with pride. She crossed the stage and he smiled as she turned her head as she spoke words of thanks or something similar to each teacher. When she got to Hagrid, Ron gripped the edge of his chair tightly at the scene at hand. Hagrid pulled Hermione into a hug and Ron watched, tension draining the color from his face, as Hermione's knees shook under the weight of Hagrid's enormous arms. With the announcement of Anthony Goldstein's name, Hagrid released Hermione and Ron felt himself be able to breathe again. He didn't want anything to mess today up for her. She'd earned it, every bit of it.

Hermione turned her tender eyes to him, glancing over her shoulder. The wind threw a curl across her lips and he watched her grin and fix her hair before tearing her eyes from his and walking down the steps on the other side of the stage.

"Luna Lorraine Lovegood" was the next name he actually cared about. Luna walked dreamily across the stage. Always good value, Luna hadn't neglected to wear a brightly painted pair of what appeared to be wooden clogs under her formal yellow robes. Loud, inappropriate applause from somewhere behind him made turn to see Xenophilius Lovegood standing and beaming at Luna.

Dean graduated, the last of their year in Gryffindor to graduate. Finally they were down to the 'W' names and "Ginerva Molly Weasley" was called out by McGonagall. Ron watched his sister cross the stage, she passed all her attempted NEWTs - which Ron noticed included Flying - and crossed the stage to mum's incessant sniffing. Harry beamed up at Ginny, Ron noted out of the corner of his eye. Ron watched Harry run his fingers over his deceptively empty pocket where Ron knew Hermione had helped him charm the ring box not to show.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron had sat down sometime last week and discussed living arrangements. Harry was planning, hoping, that Ginny would consent to moving into Grimmauld Place now that Ron and Hermione were to be married. Ron and Hermione were going on a honeymoon and remaining in their yellow brick house for at least another year. Harry would move into Grimmauld Place, which Ron still felt slightly guilty about. It had been Harry's suggestion to move out but it didn't make Ron or Hermione feel better about it. After eight years of living with Harry, Ron, though he'd never admit it to anyone, was more than a bit tense about moving forward separate. Would they grow apart? Surely not. . . But would they see each other enough? There was work and all so it should be alright, right?

McGonagall clapped her hands and snapped his attention back. The scroll she'd been reading the names from disappeared and Ron watched the mass of graduating students stand to the side of the stage.

"It is with great pride that I present to you this year's Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's graduating class," McGonagall said, smiling out at the crowd.

Ron found himself applauding and craning his neck for a look at Hermione. All the students whipped their hats off and threw them in the air and in a brief moment Ron caught a glimpse of Hermione's upturned face as she grinned and watched her hat rise and fall back into her outstretched hand. The procession of the teachers back away from the stage seemed to take longer. Before he had time to find his bride-to-be, mum was leading them up toward the castle where the teachers and other families were gathering to mingle.

"Let's go talk to Hagrid," Harry suggested, elbowing Ron as they walked to make him walk toward the half giant. Ron glanced over his shoulder for Hermione and was disappointed not to find her.

"Yeah, alright," he said, hoping Hermione would catch up to them sooner rather than later.

When they reached Hagrid, Hagrid flailed and pulled Harry and Ron both into an uncomfortably heavy and tight hug. All the air rushed out of his lungs and Ron had to pat Hagrid rather awkwardly on the arm to get him to release him. Air had never tasted so good as it did when Hagrid stepped back to address them. Hagrid proceeded to talk about what a good job the teachers had all said Hermione had been doing on her work that she'd been mailing in and how none of them knew how she did it. Ron grinned and told Hagrid he didn't know either. Hermione worked full time in the Goblin Liaison office, well she'd actually just been told she'd be with the House Elf Division under some bloke named Warr soon enough. And she'd managed to do everything else with school, home, Teddy . . .

"Hi!" Hermione's hand on his arm made him start. "We're all set if you're ready. Oh, Hagrid!" Hermione's tone grew softer when Hagrid sniffed loudly.

"'M jus so prouda you three," Hagrid said thickly. "And then next weekend, yer wedding o'course." Another snuffle punctuated Hagrid's sentence.

It took a long time to extract themselves from Hagrid's many hugs and part from the few friends that stopped them on their way back to the Apparation point outside the gates. With a series of quick pops all the Weasleys were back at the Burrow where Bill and Fleur and his tiny niece were waiting for them. Ron watched Hermione eyes dart over to Victoire and smirked privately to himself as Hermione went towards Fleur and the newborn.

Harry and Ginny had stayed outside and Ron had a distinct feeling that he knew exactly what they were discussing. The breeze made the half open window curtain in the kitchen flutter and Ron sidled over to listen, only half thinking that he shouldn't.

"Is. . . would. . .are you not happy with me?" Harry's voice asked. Ron frowned instantly. What had happened?

"I . . . ," Ginny started but faltered. "No! You're my best friend! You're the love of my life! I just took a moment to consider! Ask me again!" Ginny demanded and Ron smiled and stepped away from the window as he heard Harry respond.

"Ginny, will you - "

"Ron," Bill walked into the kitchen and glanced over his shoulder into the living room. "Any last week jitters then?"

"Not quite," he laughed, stepping toward his oldest brother. "Just ready, you know?"

"Oh, I know," Bill said seriously, nodding. "The combination of mum and Fleur nearly drove me barmy in the months leading up to it."

"Oh, no it's not that," Ron said quickly, resisting the urge to look around when he heard the screen door whine on its hinges and two sets of footsteps a moment later. "I've just been waiting for this for, well it feels like forever."

Harry and Ginny walked by him and Harry shot him a happy look and inclined his head toward the family room where Ron knew everyone else was.

"Well, I know you'll treat her right, Ron so I won't give you that speech and I know you don't need me to say this but just - ," Bill turned his head toward the open doorway, presumably looking over at his wife and daughter, " - take care of each other."

Ron nodded as Ginny's voice called them into the living room for an announcement.


	53. The End and The Beginning

**AN: Thank y'all! It's truly been so fun writing my first fan fic! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.**

_. . . Chapter 53 _

_. . . The End and The Beginning . . . _

* * *

Hermione hadn't cared about many parts of the wedding. The dress she picked for Ron's reaction. The cake was white chocolate, for Ron. The light blue garter she wore - she blushed every time it grazed the inside of her other thigh - was definitely for Ron. But the part she'd been the most excited about was the idea to create their own lights for the wedding. She had asked to borrow the Deluminator for the night before and he had handed it over, reluctant to part with the bequest that had linked them together twice in impossible circumstances.

Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and herself had been the only three people to see the orchard before the guests began arriving for the ceremony. Some of the trees were missing from the rows of trees so Hermione had made the executive decision to inhabit one of those areas. She would walk up one row of trees, making an aisle between them and then where one of the gaps were, guests would sit. Simple. Ginny had threatened Ron with hexes of unmentionable effect so he'd promised to stay inside for the duration of the day. With the Deluminator in hand, the three women had stood at the edge of the orchard and walked up the aisle Hermione would walk down later, releasing balls of light of varying sizes and brightness up at the level of the trees. The light seemed dim during the day, she suddenly worried it wouldn't be enough but shook the thought away as she put in one of Mrs. Weasley's pearl earrings, her something borrowed.

She had stuck to the Muggle tradition of 'Something borrowed, something blue, something old, something new'. Hermione knew her mother had borrowed a handkerchief from her grandfather and had kept it and tucked it into her bouquet. Hermione glanced at the table where her bouquet sat ready, the handkerchief was visible where it peeked from between bluebells. Her 'something blue' was her bouquet and the garter, of course. Something new was her dress, she looked down at her lace long sleeves and the lace dress that flowed gently into a short train.

Going to buy the dress with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had been the first time in a long time that Hermione had ached for her parents. She'd cried all over the first dress she tried on much to the horror of the sales woman and her future in-laws. Ginny worked behind her now with a knitting hook to button the tiny buttons that marched up the back of the dress in a straight line.

She leaned slightly forward to make sure her blush didn't fall on her dress, swiping on just enough on her cheeks to look bridal.

"Hermione, you sure you don't want us to grab Fleur and get her to do your make up?" Ginny asked, standing in her pale green bridesmaid's dress. "She offered."

"Well, I want to still look like myself," Hermione said, swiping on a bit of blush on the other cheek. "I don't want Ron to see me start walking down the aisle looking like a stranger."

Ginny nodded behind her in the mirror and smiled. "You look gorgeous, perfect. I just thought I'd offer."

Hermione smiled at her, closing the blush with a snap. Ginny must have read her body language because she instantly stepped forward and lifted the short train at the back of the dress.

"Ready?" Ginny asked.

She found herself suddenly breathless. Her heart jumped into her throat. This was it. They were walking downstairs to her wedding. Swallowing thickly, she nodded at Ginny through the mirror. A horrible sniff that didn't come from Ginny made her jump.

"You are a beautiful bride!" the mirror cried and Hermione let out a shaky laugh.

"Yes, I'm ready," she answered, picking up her bouquet and turning slowly to let Ginny carry the train of her dress out the door and down the steps behind her.

As soon as she was down the stairs, Ginny let the dress down to the floor and stepped around her.

"You look perfect, Hermione," she whispered. "I'll see you outside."

That heavy cluster of nerves in her throat was back. She found herself nodding. Harry's head poking around the doorway of the kitchen made her relax significantly. She was instantly reminded of the conversation they had a few weeks ago. She'd said: _"I'd be honored if you'd walk me down the aisle. You're the closest thing I have to a brother" _and they'd both cried. Him because he was thrilled and her because of the churned up feelings for her family and her sisterly love for Harry.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," Harry declared with an air of sincerity that Hermione didn't question.

"Thanks, Harry," she breathed. Her pulse raced ahead. All these people. Walking in front of everyone she knew, practically.

"Hey, you alright?" Harry yanked her out of her mild panic.

"Yeah, just nervous," she whispered, fixing the silver bracelet from George on her wrist.

"Well, it's Ron and you're both so happy togeth - "

"I'm not nervous about that! I'm nervous about having to walk over grass in high heels in front of all these people," she exclaimed, feeling like an idiot that _that_ was what she was worried about on her wedding day.

Harry grinned at her. "I'm not going to let you fall," he offered her his arm and she took it in full trust, inhaling deeply.

"Ready?" he asked. She nodded and they stepped out together in the late afternoon light of the Burrow.

* * *

Two knocks from Bill on his childhood bedroom door were his cue to straighten his tie and open his door. Bill's smirking face and George's grin were the first things he saw when he opened the door.

"Time?" he asked.

"It is," Bill answered, moving aside to let him down the stairs.

"Still time to back out," George joked lightly as the three of them started down the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah," he breathed back, not sure of how steady his voice would be if he said anything longer than two words.

Out in the grass, Bill and George walked in front of him. He and Hermione had decided to only have one attendant stand with each of them due to the sheer number of Weasley men. His steps faltered when he turned around the corner of the house and saw the orchard. Tiny balls of light hovered above the branches of the trees, adding to the blush light of the afternoon. He instantly knew this was why Hermione had borrowed the Deluminator. His eyes instantly burned and he blinked away the feeling quickly. He couldn't walk down the aisle blubbering like an idiot.

Walking forward, Ron tried to keep his eyes forward and not turn to look at anyone. He immediately failed at that. The sounds of Hagrid's loud crying carried across the grass and Ron found his gaze drawn to Hagrid whose crying only increased when he saw Ron. A few people whispered as he walked by and he felt his ears heat up. He took calming breaths and looked forward to find his mum and dad twisted in their seats to watch him walk forward.

He smiled and nodded once at his parents before turning and standing beside the wizard that would be performing the binding. He suddenly wished that Harry was already standing up there beside him instead of walking Hermione up the aisle before coming to stand by him.

"Alright?" the wizard spoke.

Ron nodded and smiled over at him. "Yeah," he breathed through his smile, anxious to see Ginny walk up the aisle as soon as possible. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long. Ginny carried a white bouquet up the aisle and smiled at everyone as she walked to the string quartet music. Ron stood up straighter and tried to ignore how hard his heart was pounding.

After Ginny came up to stand on the other side of where Hermione would be, the music changed and Ron felt his entire chest seize up at the sight before him.

Hermione stood between the rows of trees, lit by the yellow glow of the orbs of light above her. Her smile was huge as she looked right at him. He felt himself return the smile as the wedding guests stood and turned to watch his bride - almost his _wife_ - walk up the aisle. The swish of her hips under the lace dress, the way her curls reflected the light from underneath her veil, that smile, the way her eyes never left his: it was all so perfect, so beautiful.

Finally she was before him and he realized that Harry was stepping to his other side. The wizard that would bind them together had them turn to face him and Ron caught himself looking over at Hermione several times while the wizard greeted the crowd.

"If you will please face each other," the wizard prompted and Hermione turned toward Ron.

They were so close together. He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to take her hands and reached out to take both of her small hands in his. The pink light over the orchard shone softly on one side of her face.

"Will you, Ronald Bilius, take Hermione Jean to be your bonded wife? Will you love her, comfort and keep her, and forsaking all others remain true to her for as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," he answered, pleased and surprised when his voice didn't shake.

"Will you, Hermione Jean, take Ronald Bilius to be your bonded husband? Will you love him, comfort and keep him, and forsaking all others remain true to him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," she answered and smiled up at him.

"Good," the wizard whispered. "And who has the rings?" he asked, louder for the audience to hear.

Ron saw Ginny behind Hermione hand the wizard his ring and saw Harry's hand come from behind him with Hermione's ring.

"Alright, please repeat after me: I, Ronald Bilius Weasley - "

"I, Ronald Bilius Weasley," he dutifully repeated and Hermione's grin grew.

" - take you Hermione Jean Granger, to be my bonded wife - " the wizard continued.

" - take you Hermione Jean Granger, to be my bonded wife - " Ron parroted back.

" - and with this ring, I thee wed - " The wizard handed him the ring and Ron took it in his shaking hands.

" - and with this ring, I thee wed - " Ron maneuvered the ring to the tip of her left ring finger and gently pushed the band he'd wanted to put on her since December onto her slim finger.

" - all my worldly goods I thee endow, in sickness and in health - "

" - all my worldly goods I thee endow, in sickness and in health - " Ron repeated and felt the burning of tears behind his eyes when he saw that Hermione had tears building in hers.

" - for richer or for poorer, until death parts us," the wizard finished.

" - for richer or for poorer, until death parts us," Ron heard his own voice shake and a single tear broke loose from Hermione's eyes and slid down her cheek.

"Hermione," the wizard turned toward her and Ron saw her blinking quickly, trying to clear away her tears.

Ron focused on the sweet words that Hermione repeated as the wizard prompted and watched her shaky fingers approach his to slide the white gold wedding band over his finger.

" - for richer or for poorer, until death parts us," Hermione finished, brushing tears away with her left hand. His chest clenched in a way that was at once painful and brilliant.

"Well then, by the power supplied me by the Ministry of Magic, and by the witness of these that are here present, then I declare you bonded for life."

A shower of silver sparks fell over them and their hands and their friends and family let out a series of whoops and clapping. The flutter in his stomach was unbearable and wonderful. Husband and wife.

"Face the crowd," the wizard said, barely audible over the noise. Then with his voice louder, he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley."

Hermione looked up at him and he found himself looking down at her amid the chaos of people standing up for their procession down the aisle.

"Ready?" he mouthed. She gave him a watery grin and nodded and he led his _wife _out of the orchard to the tent where their reception was to take place.

The reception was a blur of dances and demands to kiss, which he and Hermione willingly gave in to again and again. Then they were cutting the cake and feeding it to each other in some Muggle tradition that Hermione had insisted on. Finally, after making their rounds and telling countless people that they were going to Greece on their honeymoon he and his wife were standing in the line for a plate of actual food.

"Hey, will you two come with me?" Harry interrupted them in the line for food. Ron almost growled. Bloody haven't eaten anything but tiny nibbles of cake all day, everyone won't stop coming to speak to them and now Harry. . .

"What's up, Harry?" Hermione managed to sound upbeat in the face of more hungry moments.

"I've got to talk to you two, it's important," Harry whispered, grabbing Hermione's hand and leading them out of the tent. Hermione's wedding ring gleamed through Harry's fingers and Ron smiled at the sight of it, glancing down at the white gold band on his own left hand. Harry let go of Hermione's hand once outside of the tent and led them over to an unruly, tall set of shrubs. Turning on his heel, Harry launched into speaking, "Guys, the prophecy . We've got to talk about it. I've figured something out."

"Harry - " Ron started furiously. Of all the days to bring this up.

"No, Ron - Hermione. Think about it!" Harry said excitedly. "The prophecy Trelawney made about me and Riddle. It spanned almost two decades! If you look at the prophecy about Hermione now over the course of the last few months it makes sense. Remember what it says?"

Hermione glanced up at him, knowing he'd memorized it. Ron sighed heavily and recited:

_" The time of great peace approaches. - "_

"That's obvious," Harry cut across him quickly.

_"It will come to pass when the one of three carries new life._

_She will pass through the Veil. _

_Hermione Granger will cease to exist. _

_Her one love will repay those who take her in quick succession._

_Only after these have come into fruition will our world know peace."_

Ron felt his lungs seize up. What if the prophecy hadn't been negated by them in December? What if it was still -

"Don't you get it?" Harry was practically bouncing. "Hermione Granger _did _cease to exist. You're Hermione Weasley now." Something clicked in Ron's mind about seeing her walk down the aisle just an hour or so before.

"'_She will pass through the Veil' _. . . you wore a veil for the ceremony, Hermione. . ." Ron muttered and looked down at her. Smooth skin, parted lips, and wide golden-brown eyes looked back up at him. "What if it was _veil?_ Not _Veil?" _Ron gestured to her curls as he spoke.

"Ron struck down those Death Eaters in December so that's the '_quick succession_' part," Harry grinned at Hermione knowingly. "I think you're pregnant."

"What? I can't - " Hermione broke off suddenly and looked up at him. He knew that since the last year she'd had an irregular cycle and since December it was hit or miss every couple months. He scanned his memory for contraceptive charms and couldn't remember any recently. His head spun.

"Do you know the spell, Hermione?" Harry asked quickly, pulling his wand out of his pocket.

She shook her head no, "Fleur will," she said a bit too loud.

"Fleur vill what?" Fleur's voice signaled her prescience near their vegetative hideout.

"Fleur will you see if Hermione is pregnant?" Harry asked quickly, quietly. Fleur walked around the tall bushes to face them. Ron felt his face and ears heat up when Fleur glanced up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Eef this ees a joke - " started Fleur. Her hands flew to her hips in a spot on impersonation of mum.

"No, no, no. The prophecy, Fleur, we think we figured it out," Harry explained in a rush. The look on Fleur's face when from suspicious to businesslike in an instant. Fleur pulled out her wand and aimed it at Hermione.

"_Fero tuli latum_ _liber_, f_ero tuli latum_ _liber_," Fleur chanted twice. A pale green light glowed over Hermione's stomach. What did that mean, then? "Well, eef this was me, I'd wait to tell Molly until after the honeymoon."

"Wait? I'm - " Hermione started, bringing both hands over her flat abdomen. He couldn't breathe.

"Yes and not very far along. You'll haf to go to St. Mungo's for zee rest," Fleur said, beaming. "Prophecy worries over?"

"Over," Ron said, relief blotting out all worries about their future. _Great Peace. _Turning and leaning down to his bride, he asked her quickly, "'Mi, baby, are you happy?"

Fleur and Harry walked away from their hideaway behind the bushes. She looked up at him with the biggest grin he'd ever seen on her. Ron laughed down at her and wrapped his arms around her in that bloody perfect white dress.

"So that's a yes, then?" Ron asked her, picking her up so they were face to face. Her feet hung uselessly around his shins.

"Yes," she brought both arms to wrap about his neck. "We're married," she breathed.

"We're having a baby," he whispered with a sense of growing wonder. Ron spun once on the spot holding her full against him. White lace against black dress robes.

"_'Only after these have come into fruition will our world know peace'," _Hermione muttered, her sweet breath drifted pleasantly over his face. "Funny, now I really want to completely believe in that prophecy."

Ron grinned at her and watched her face fix into a large smile. "I love you, Hermione Granger."

"It's Hermione _Weasley_, and I love you too," she whispered. He crushed his mouth against hers. After all these years, years of facing insurmountable odds and all of them narrowly escaping death time and again, Ron held his little family up against himself and poured his soul into the most cherished kiss of his life.


End file.
